


Somewhere in the Middle

by TheGirlWhoRemembers



Series: Every End is a Beginning 'Verse [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Backstory, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Missions, One-Shot Series, Romance, Sequel, Slow Build, Team as Family, Whump, meta jokes, silliness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 69,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoRemembers/pseuds/TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: Sequel toEvery End is a Beginning.One-shot series.Latest update: All I Want for Christmas.Mac is arrested for murder. Since he’s Mac, that somehow ends with the takedown of a major drug- and arms-dealing cartel, a blow struck against The Organization…and an engagement.





	1. Giving Thanks

**Author's Note:**

> This is set post-2.22, Bobby Pin. It picks up immediately after that ends. I originally considered including this in _Every End is a Beginning_ , but felt that I didn’t want to end it on such a tone; I wanted it to have more ~gravitas~. This is really just fluffy schmoop. 
> 
> To the Guest who sent me the loveliest review saying that I should apply to write the show (!!!) – thank you so much! (Aside from the non-US problem, I’m also a 21-year old chemistry student, so I’d have to pull off something very Mac-like to achieve that!) 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.03, Roulette Wheel + Wire, with spoilers, at the end of the chapter.

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Woken by some surely deeply-ingrained instinct, some cook’s sixth sense (at least, that’s what he told himself, since it sounded cool and all), Bozer glanced over at the clock on his bedside table, which showed that it was 11:45 am.

He suppressed a yawn and got to work extricating himself from the bed-coverings and his girlfriend, pulling a lock of Riley’s sleep-wild hair out of his mouth as he did so. Riley had, as usual, slowly started taking over more and more of his half of the bed over the course of the night.

(Bozer was beginning to think that it might be time to get a bigger bed. If he went out and bought a really nice king mattress, that might help him persuade Riley to move in with him, which would be heaps safer and all. After the whole Murdoc Incident of the evening before, he really didn’t like the idea of her living alone, even if Riley was seriously badass – much more badass than him - and could look after herself really well.)

(On the other hand…he was pretty sure it wouldn’t fly. He was also thinking that it might not be the right time for them, not yet, and he also kinda wanted them to decide to move in together at some point in the future because they _wanted_ to live together, not because of the crazy murderous assassin who was creepily obsessed with his BFF/roommate.)

(He’d talk to her about it later, after Thanksgiving. Maybe she and Beth could move in together; he had a feeling that Mac was going to make some noises about the doctor living alone, after last night’s events.)

Bozer shook his head and cut off that train of thought; he had more important things to do.

It was imperative that he went and brined the turkey within the next half-hour, or Thanksgiving would be _ruined_ , and he could _not_ have that.

Not on his watch.

Riley made a rather adorable, grumbly sound of protest when he got out of bed, even as she shifted to take over the area he’d vacated.

Bozer gave a little chuckle and bent to drop a quick kiss on her forehead.

‘Gotta go brine the turkey, Riley. Breakfast will be in about an hour, okay?’

The noise that Riley made in response, still half-asleep, was far less grumbly and sounded much like _thank you_ , and Bozer grinned and padded out of his bedroom as quietly as possible.

* * *

Bozer stepped into the living room to find Beth sitting on the end of the couch furthest from him, leaning her back on the arm. Her lower half was covered with Jack’s football snuggie and her hair, which had been in a tidy French braid when she’d fallen asleep on the deck, was now a little messy from sleep.

She was also shooting his roommate one of her narrow-eyed looks. Mac was perched on the other arm of the couch, his back to Bozer, with his hands up, trying to placate her.

‘…A, it wasn’t far, B, you’re really not heavy…that’s not idle flattery, it’s objective _fact,_ and C, I’ll buy you a pie. Pumpkin pie. Four pumpkin pies, actually.’

Wordlessly, apparently not placated by Mac’s arguments, Beth got up and pointed at his left shoulder, expression still very firm. With a sigh, Mac shrugged out of his leather jacket and undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt, so that she could examine his shoulder.

What she saw and felt seemed to satisfy her, because she removed her hands, nodded and stepped back. Mac started doing up his shirt buttons again as Beth grinned at him, voice a mixture of exasperation and fondness, and jabbed at the air in front of his chest.

‘You owe me pie.’

Mac, too, grinned.

‘Well, I did more-or-less promise…’

From the look that Mac was giving her, Bozer was pretty sure his BFF would buy all the pies in LA County if she asked.

With a fond shake of his head, Bozer stepped into the kitchen and started busying himself making the brine for the turkey, which seemed to finally get Mac and Beth’s attention as the former shrugged on his jacket again.

‘Morning, Boze.’

‘Good morning, Bozer.’

With another fond little head-shake, Bozer grinned up at them.

‘Morning, Mac, morning, Beth. Whaddya say to French toast _and_ waffles for breakfast, once I’ve got the brining magic going?’ Bozer poked his head into the fridge. ‘Err…maybe after somebody does a grocery run, we kinda ate everything last night…’

Beth laughed, and Mac gestured with his head towards the door.

‘Jack’s on it, Boze.’ He glanced at his phone. ‘He should be back in about twenty minutes.’

Bozer shot Mac a thumbs-up, since he was a bit occupied measuring out the brine ingredients. Meanwhile, having sat down on the couch again, Beth’s brow furrowed.

‘Wait a moment…four pies? Why _four?_ ’

Bozer shook his head fondly again (living with Mac, one got used to non-sequiturs; his roomie’s brain spat out random things at random times, and he’d noticed that Beth’s often did the same too), as Mac ran a hand through his hair, trying to work out how to explain his logic.

‘Well, uh…one was for carrying you inside. And then one was for my attempt at contortionism…’

* * *

Very early in the afternoon, Jack, Mac, Bozer, Riley and Beth lounged around the kitchen, enjoying their leisurely brunch of French toast and waffles, with an assortment of stewed berries, maple syrup and bacon (not all at once, except for Jack, who was currently chewing on a mouthful of French toast-with-waffle-and-bacon-and-maple-syrup-and-berries, which everyone else thought was disgusting, but judging by the blissful look on the older man’s face, he thought was delicious).

Bozer’s phone beeped, and he immediately rushed over to the fridge to check on his turkey (it needed turning over precisely every hour, on the hour, to ensure that the brine worked its magic evenly).

Jack swallowed and mouthed _crazy_ at the others, which drew fond head-shakes from Mac, Riley and Beth. Riley took the opportunity to steal the half-piece of French toast left on her boyfriend’s plate.

Bozer returned from his very important mission and noticed the missing piece of French toast. He turned, rather dramatically (he was definitely doing that on purpose) to Riley, whose cheeks were bulging slightly. The hacker simply smirked unapologetically (at least, as best as one could with a mouth full of French toast, anyway) at him, and Bozer shook his head with a smile and reached out and stole a piece of her bacon in retaliation.

Chuckling, Mac absent-mindedly reached out and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring some of the hot beverage into Jack’s mug, then Beth’s, and then his own. He put down the coffee pot and passed Beth the carton of milk as he took the sugar bowl and put a teaspoon of it into Jack’s coffee, then two in his own, and one-and-a-half in Beth’s, still without really paying attention.

Jack picked up his own coffee mug, mostly to hide the smirk on his face.

* * *

**To: Riley**

**From: Beth**

**You know how we were talking (not terribly-seriously, I think) about moving in together in the bathroom?**

**Well, I’m seriously suggesting that we do that. I don’t think I can live alone again. At the very least, not in my apartment. I have to move, no matter what.**

* * *

**To: Beth**

**From: Riley**

**I love having my own space, but I’m starting to see the appeal of a roommate, TBH. Anyway, I’ve been on my own a couple of years now, kinda done that whole proving-I-can-be-independent thing.**

**And I don’t think Boze and I are ready to live together full-time yet, and I know he’s going to at least raise the whole me-not-living-alone thing (and I bet Jack and Mac are going to raise it to both of us, just you wait), so…**

**Besides, you’re a much better cook than I am. :P**

**And seriously – Nate does really good work.**

* * *

Late that evening, after Bozer and Riley had eaten (having heard from Patricia – who was still stuck at the Phoenix – and Beth, Jack and Mac – the latter two had taken the former back to her place to pack a bag; she’d be staying with Jack for a while, since he actually had a spare room – that none of them would be back for dinner), the front door opened, and in stepped Mac, carrying a multitude of bags.

Bozer immediately bustled over to help his roommate (who was still supposed to be resting, but Mac was Mac, and Beth could only perform so many miracles…), taking a series of bags from Mac’s left hand.

They, fortunately, weren’t heavy, being full of boxes of very nice chocolates.

Mac held out a bag that smelt vaguely like cheese to Riley.

‘Can you help me hide these? I need to keep Jack from getting at them; they’re for Matty.’

With a smirk-smile and a chuckle, Riley took the bag and started perusing Mac and Bozer’s home for suitable hiding places, as Mac put down a couple more bags containing larger square boxes onto the kitchen counter.

Bozer knew instantly what they contained, and smiled as he wordlessly put them in the fridge for Mac.

The blonde smiled and carefully put down the last two bags (which contained a new leather wristband, a tube of Beth’s favourite hand lotion, and some assorted bits and bobs he’d need for his modified Thermomix and the new controllers for Riley’s new gaming rig) out of Bozer’s sight.

As Riley made a noise of triumph and shoved the box of cheese Danishes into their hiding place, Mac picked up his two hidden bags and the boxes of chocolates again and walked towards his room, his smile widening.

‘Thanks, guys.’ He gestured with his head towards the door of his bedroom. ‘I’ve got some thank-you notes to write, so…goodnight?’

‘Night, Mac.’

Bozer pointed at his best friend.

‘Remember to actually get some sleep, bro, or I’ll set Beth on you!’

Mac shook his head, probably with more fondness than he realized, and muttered half to himself.

‘Oh, she’s going to call me in a couple of hours to remind me, don’t you worry…’

* * *

**JACK’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘You look real pretty, kiddo.’ Jack smirked at the young woman wearing a modest, but very flattering, dark-purple dress, a couple of cream-coloured flower-shaped hairclips in her otherwise-loose hair, standing in his living room. ‘Mac’s not gonna be able to keep his eyes off you.’

Beth’s cheeks pinked, but she smiled all the same.

‘I sort-of have a point to prove to Riley, and, well, if there are any auxiliary benefits to proving that point…’

She just gave a little shrug, which made Jack’s smirk widen even more as they walked out his door to head to Mac and Bozer’s for Thanksgiving.

There’d never be any little Jacks.

That did sadden him.

That was a regret he’d have to live with.

But having Riley and Mac and Eli and Bozer and Beth in his life really did help ease that ache.

He kind of still got to be a dad, after all. Sometimes.

And he hadn’t even had to change any diapers.

(They weren’t little Jacks.)

(But he didn’t want them to be.)

(He loved them so much just as they were.)

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Mac, carrying a box that had been carefully hidden from Jack for the last 24 hours, slipped into the seat next to Matty, who was sipping on a drink, as they waited for the rest of the guests to arrive.

‘Hi, Matty.’ He offered her the box. ‘This is for you.’ He paused for a moment as his former boss took the box, an eyebrow arched. ‘ _Thank you_.’

Those simple two words seemed very inadequate, but they were all he had, really. (Well, that and the cheese Danishes.) Matty opened the box, and he didn’t miss her grin, even though she quickly schooled her features into something far more snarky.

Matty held up the folded piece of paper that had been duct-taped (he hadn’t been able to find any ordinary sticky tape, but he always had plenty of duct tape lying around) to the front of the box.

‘A thank you note, Mac? Have you been reading etiquette books, Baby Einstein?’ She snorted. ‘’Cause etiquette is overrated.’ Mac gave a snort of laughter, as Matty’s expression softened. ‘It was part of the job.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m always glad to help family, Mac.’

He, too, smiled softly in response, as Matty closed the box and muttered half to herself.

‘Now I just have to keep Jack from getting his grubby paws on these…’

* * *

Patricia showed up very late, having told them, under no uncertain terms, to get dinner started without her.

The welcome she got when she walked through the door made her so, so, so grateful that she’d never spent a Christmas or a Thanksgiving in prison.

The welcome she got jolted and warmed that part of her heart that she’d believed, not so long ago, would never be warm and _alive_ again.

So she hugged Riley warmly, and Mac, too, and even kissed Jack’s cheek lightly when he hugged her in greeting, just like that Christmas _before._

‘Happy Thanksgiving, Patty.’

Her smile widened a little.

‘Happy Thanksgiving, Jack.’

They let go of each other, Patricia pointedly ignoring the look that Bozer and Riley exchanged, and instead accepted a quick hug and a drink from Beth, and then took the plate of food that Bozer had kept warm for her in the oven with a smile and another quick half-hug.

She walked into the living room, stopping to greet Penny, James MacGyver and Diane Davis and her boyfriend along the way, and took a seat on a stool next to Matty, who raised her wineglass to gesture at the crowd of chattering, happy people before them.

‘They’re ridiculous. They belong in one of those aggressively-happy family movies.’ That was said with much snarky affection, then Matty’s expression softened. ‘They _are_ family, after all.’

Patricia simply smiled and clinked her glass to Matty’s in agreement.

* * *

‘Is she his girlfriend?’

James MacGyver leaned over and spoke quietly to Jack, gesturing towards where Bozer, Riley, Mac and Beth had clustered, enthusiastically eating pumpkin pie.

Bozer had apparently just said something funny, because Riley was laughing and shaking her head, resting an arm on Bozer’s shoulder. As they watched, a still-grinning Mac reached over and wiped off the bit of whipped cream that a still-giggling Beth had gotten on her chin while laughing at Bozer’s comment with his thumb.

Jack turned his head to face the other man, noting that curious mixture of happiness and pride and those hints of wistfulness and self-loathing and maybe the tiniest bit of jealousy on his face and in his eyes. Wistfulness and longing to get back those years he’d missed, to be close to Mac in the way that they’d been, once upon a time. Self-loathing for what he’d done, abandoning his son. Jealousy, because he wanted to be the one that Mac always came to for advice on women, the one who nudged him and advised him and maybe teased him a little, like a father did for his adult son. Because, maybe, just maybe, he wished he had with Mac what Jack did.

Jack got the whole let-bygones-be-bygones thing. He understood forgiveness. Heck, he’d done more or less the same thing that James MacGyver had done, once upon a time.

He was the one who’d encouraged Mac to reach out in the first place.

But occasionally, he still felt a little mad at James MacGyver for what he’d done to Mac, despite all that Mac’s father had done to try and atone for it. Despite the forgiveness that Mac had extended his father, that eagerness he had to build a new relationship between the two of them.

Today, however, was not one of those occasions.

Instead, Jack just gave a little smile-smirk.

‘Not yet.’ The smile-smirk widened. ‘But soon.’

That made James MacGyver give a smile-smirk too.

‘Harry and I always said that one day, he’d realize that girls are more interesting than explosions.’

Jack gave a little snort and shrugged.

‘Reckon the jury’s still out on that, man.’

* * *

_I’ve got to say, the lead-up to this year’s Thanksgiving was terrible._

_I never, ever want that to happen again._

_I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t._

_But, for the record, it was an excellent Thanksgiving._

* * *

'What do you mean you turned a turkey _purple_ when you were fifteen? _How_? _Why_?’


	2. Whispers in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way home from a mission, in the middle of the night, Mac has an important question that he desperately needs answered and Jack’s heart breaks a little bit more for his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between 2.03, Lipstick, and 2.04, Jack, and written because Mac-and-Jack bromance feels are amazing.
> 
> To the Guest who asked for Mac hurt on a mission and Beth looking after him as a girlfriend, didthatreallyhappen has asked for more-or-less the same thing, so I’ll be combining the two requests. You’ll have to wait a while for it to post; I’ve got quite a buffer built up on this story!

In the middle of the night, after a long, but thankfully not terribly eventful, mission with just the two of them in Nigeria (certainly very different from their last mission in Cleveland, to say the least), Jack, half-asleep, heard his partner’s voice in the darkness.

Mac’s voice sounded very young, plaintive and vulnerable and a little scared.

‘Jack? Are you awake?’

Jack did his best to put some grumpy grumbling into his voice when he responded.

‘Well, I am _now_.’

Mac huffed out a weak breath that was probably an attempt at a laugh, then continued.

‘Am…am I ever going to be able to fall in love again?’

And just like that, Jack’s heart broke a little for the younger man, yet again.

He sat up, and reached for the light switch for the reading light above him. The dim light came on, and Jack could see his partner, who was sitting up with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and staring at yet another broken-heart paperclip.

Jack got up from his seat and went and sat on the couch beside Mac, putting an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, squeezing for a second before speaking.

‘Yeah, you will, brother, you will. One day, you’re gonna meet a pretty, smart woman who loves that mad science stuff you do and your paperclip thing and horrible dress sense and crazy, brilliant brain, and then you’re gonna get married and walk down the aisle to that _She Blinded Me With Science_ song and have a mini-genius or two and get a dog called Archimedes the Second.’ Mac gave a weak snort that sounded like it might have been a half-laugh, as Jack continued, squeezing Mac’s shoulders a little tighter. ‘And I know you’re gonna, because you’re Angus MacGyver, and you can do impossible things and you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met and you can survive hell and come out even better on the other side. I know that, brother, ‘cause I’ve seen you do it.’ Jack paused for a moment. ‘And we’re gonna be with you every step of the way. We’re gonna do everything we can to help you get there.’ He paused again, and when he spoke, his voice was a little rough with emotion. ‘I’m gonna be there for you, brother. Always.’

Mac was silent for a moment, processing. Jack wasn’t convinced that the younger man completely believed him, but he’d done everything he could, for now, and he’d meant every word he’d said.

He believed Mac would manage to get through this.

He believed that Mac would work through what Nikki had left him with, and that one day, he’d find love again, despite the huge number of obstacles in his way.

Obstacles of any sort really didn’t stand much of a chance against Mac, after all.

And, well, he also had Jack. He had Jack’s life experience to draw on, would learn from Jack’s mistakes, and thus, Jack fervently believed (hoped) would never make them himself.

(One day, if it came down to it, if Mac found himself with a Diane and a Riley, knowing everything he did now, knowing how much Mac wanted that white-picket-fence happy ending, knowing how much Mac had sacrificed – and would sacrifice – for the world, Jack would do everything he could to convince Mac to give up his job, to leave the Phoenix and the world of spies and secret agents.)

(To be a little selfish, because he’d earned it. More than earned it. Paid in sweat, tears and blood and a thrice-broken heart. Nearly paid with his life far too many times.)

(And because love and family were worth _everything_.)

Jack believed in his partner. Jack believed that Mac could put himself back together and heal, and find love again and everything else he wanted, everything else he dreamed of.

Mac _didn’t_ believe that right now, didn’t have that hope, not with the faith that Jack did, so Jack would believe for him, for now.

Then, after a moment, Mac put his own arm around Jack’s shoulders, and gave a little smile.

‘Thanks, Jack.’

As always, the _for everything_ went unsaid.

It didn’t need to be said, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea where this came from, but did you like it?
> 
> I’m not sure if Jack convincing Mac to leave the Phoenix one day and go and be a ‘normal’ person for the sake of love and family is an unpopular opinion or not, but I feel that Jack would try and do that. I mean, he loves Mac dearly, he wants Mac to be happy and he wants Mac to have what he didn’t get (at least in the conventional way) and to not make his mistakes. I think if you asked Jack if he’d go back in time and leave the DXS for Diane and Riley, he would probably say no (given that then he’d probably never have met Mac), but at the same time, I imagine it to be one of his greatest regrets. So, I think if Mac were ever in the same scenario, Jack would encourage him to leave, probably with a mixture of personal anecdotes and the argument that Mac has given up far too much for the sake of the greater good. (And honestly, I headcanon that Jack, Bozer and Riley would leave with him, with Jack retiring, taking up fixing cars and teaching part-time at some military college and maybe getting back together with Diane, Bozer becoming a stay-at-home dad who makes movies in his spare time, and Riley joining the FBI and becoming really senior in the Cybercrime division. And Matty – or Thornton, if she turns out to be not-evil – would pull some strings and get Mac a job at DARPA, despite his lack of a college degree…this might one day turn into a story, I can feel the plot bunnies approaching…)
> 
> _She Blinded Me With Science_ is the song that McGee and Delilah of _NCIS_ had played at their wedding. It seemed like the sort of thing that Jack would suggest that Mac have played at his! 
> 
> The next chapter will be up on Sunday night my time (Sunday morning for Americans). The summary is as follows: (Not) the Reason Why Girls Never Go to the Bathroom Alone, set during 2.22, Bobby Pin. Riley and Beth’s bathroom conversation.


	3. (Not) the Reason Why Girls Never Go to the Bathroom Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley and Beth’s bathroom conversation in 2.22, Bobby Pin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during 2.22, Bobby Pin, when Riley follows Beth into the bathroom. This was originally supposed to be in _Every End is a Beginning_ , but I felt it cut the flow a bit too much, and I wanted to focus on Mac at that point of the story.
> 
> This is a day early, because it is very, very short, and because I took a break from studying for my exams (in a month, I’ll finish my degree!) this afternoon. Expect the next chapter probably on Tuesday or Wednesday. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.04, X-Ray + Penny, at the end of the chapter, with spoilers.

When Riley stepped into the bathroom, Beth had just stood up and flushed the toilet, but was still leaning against the cubicle wall, and looking pale and shaken and staring at the floor.

She looked up when she heard Riley, and managed a little wave of sorts in greeting.

Riley simply leaned on the wall, just outside of Beth’s open cubicle, and the two of them stood there in silence (not uncomfortable silence, just expectant silence) for a moment, before Beth eventually broke it, voice a little shaky.

‘...That’s…that’s not the first time I’ve had to treat a bad guy. Not nearly.’ She’d had a patient or two in Detroit, during her residency, who’d come in under police guard. Some of the people she’d treated in Aleppo almost certainly had been terrorists. One or two had tried to get under her skin and she’d faced death before too, over there. ‘But…’ She rubbed her left arm with her right. ‘…it’s never been like this before. Never been so…personal.’

Riley gave a very dark, very small, wry smile and snort.

‘Yeah, Murdoc’s a special kind of evil.’ She paused for a moment. ‘You know, part of me thinks Mac should have killed him at the factory.’

Riley’s nose immediately wrinkled a little after she spoke, as if she didn’t like that she had that thought.

Beth just considered those words for a moment, before responding, voice very certain.

‘He’d never have done it, not if there was the slightest possibility of taking him alive.’

Riley simply nodded in agreement, then was silent for a moment before she spoke.

‘I…I think there’s a moment, an event, when…when the reality of our line of work finally, finally hits you. And…and I know you’ve already seen a lot and been through a lot, but…at least based on my experience, I think this is it for you.’ Riley paused again, rubbing her arm. ‘I…I saw a lot, I did a lot, but…it wasn’t until I killed somebody that I think I completely got it…’

Beth looked up at her, and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, some kind of mutual sympathy and understanding of sorts passing between them.

Then, the doctor swallowed and nodded.

‘What helped?’

Riley let her arm drop.

‘I learned to shoot. Properly and well. So that if that situation ever came up again…’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe I could have stopped him without having to kill him. Or maybe not; we were fighting for our lives and it was desperate.’ She looked up at Beth. ‘But it helped.’ She shrugged again. ‘And therapy did too, of course.’

Beth just nodded.

‘Move forward, remember the past, but don’t dwell on it. Control the things you can control.’ Riley, too, nodded, as the doctor continued. ‘I am _definitely_ moving house.’

That sort-of non-sequitur made Riley smile, just a little, and the smile widened as she spoke.

‘Maybe we can be roommates.’

At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The knock on the door is, of course, Mac. Yay? Nay? Do you agree with my decision to cut this out of _Every End is a Beginning?_
> 
> As always – please do send me any prompts or requests that you have! didthatreallyhappen and Guest, your request (currently titled Guardian Angels) is now complete, though it’s not going to post for a couple of weeks. (I think you guys will like the next chapter, though…)
> 
> Next chapter: Perchance to Dream. Mac has nightmares. Of course he does, after all he’s survived. But sometimes, he also has dreams. Good dreams. This is one of those times.
> 
> Thoughts on 2.04, X-Ray + Penny: I loved the episode! How could I not? Little Mac…I have to say, that opening was my favourite scene in an ep full of great scenes! 
> 
> On Cage: I liked her a little better in that episode (the week after I complain that Mac’s love interest should be someone he can ‘nerd out’ with, Cage gets a sort-of that kind of moment with him…sort-of…maybe I spoke too soon?), but I’ve finally worked out what bothers me about her so much: Cage doesn’t seem real. She doesn’t seem like a genuine person, unlike honestly every other character I feel we’ve seen on the show (even though I hate Nikki, she does feel ‘real’ to me – with a little exposition and a bit of backstory, I actually think she could be quite a good character, even though I hate Mac/Nikki; similarly, Thornton was always closed-off and cold, yet that came through as being very much real and genuine). Cage is honestly perfect: she’s really badass, she’s very smart, extremely beautiful, she has a very special talent and everybody loves her, instantly. She also can’t be much older than 30, if she is at all, and she knows everything about everyone, so it seems, but nobody knows anything about her. She has a Very Mysterious Backstory Full of Secrets and fits into the team and finds her role on it instantly (contrast: Matty – remember how the team spent a couple of episodes feeling her out, and her feeling them out?). It’s not so much the perfect thing that bothers me (I’m not one of those people who thinks that all characters need deep flaws or something like that, and if we’re going to criticize perfect, just look at Mac…), but it’s more that she has no particular signature character traits (except maybe the feminist call-out sort of thing she had going on in DIY or Die, which has disappeared completely) or relationships, none of those particular quirks (or more honestly, combination of quirks) and connections that make a person, well, a person (even the less ‘quirky’ or ‘unique’ characters we’ve seen – Nikki, Thornton, Sarah, maybe Riley, all have some particular combo of traits that is very them, as well as a special relationship with some of the other characters that is their signature). It’s like they ordered her from a catalogue of stock characters – under Strong Independent Female Love Interest with a Secret or something. I don’t know – maybe that is the point of her character, and all will become clear soon? (Guys – am I being too harsh?)


	4. Perchance to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac has nightmares. Of course he does, after all he’s survived. But sometimes, he has dreams. Good dreams. This is one of those times. 
> 
> Or, in which Beth is sitting on his deck, reading a funny science book and eating a giant slice of pie, for reasons unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between 2.19, Business Card, and 2.20, Pool Cue. Schmoopy, fairly-romantic fluff with light humour. That’s all this is!

He found himself standing in his bedroom, dressed, as he often was, in tan chinos, a button-down shirt (this one was light blue), and his favourite brown leather jacket.

Without knowing why, or, in fact, remembering pushing the door open, he found himself walking through the living room.

He stopped a little way in front of the door leading onto the deck.

Again, for reasons that he didn’t know, Beth was sitting on the deck, wearing grey jeans and a soft-looking blue knit sweater, her hair braided and wearing socks but not shoes, yet again for reasons unknown.

She was also reading _What If? Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions._ There was an absurdly, comically huge slice of pumpkin pie on a plate beside her, and she was sucking absent-mindedly on a spork, smiling as she read.

As he watched, seemingly unnoticed by her, she laughed, throwing her head back a little, removing the piece of cutlery from her mouth.

Then he was, somehow, standing out on the deck, just a few feet away from her.

Completely and utterly unfazed by his sudden appearance, the doctor just smiled widely up at him, as if she’d been expecting him.

‘Hi, Mac.’ She put down the book, carefully marking her place with a bookmark that he hadn’t noticed had been tucked into the front cover of her book before, and pulled another spork seemingly from nowhere. He sat down, and she offered him the spork and gestured to the huge slice of pie. ‘Would you like some pie?’ Her smile became a bit more sheepish. ‘If I really, really wanted to, I could probably eat the whole thing, but I think that’d be a bad idea…’

As soon as she’d finished speaking, however, she helped herself to another spoonful of pie, and with a chuckle, he, too, took some.

When he’d swallowed his pie, he gestured to the fire pit, which was lit, but the flames had burned down to embers, the kind that Bozer would say were absolutely perfect for low and slow barbecue.

They were, however, not terribly good for keeping warm.

‘Why didn’t you bank the fire?’

It was very much a small-talk kind of question, idle curiosity, really, but she looked up at him, meeting his eyes, as if it was a very, very serious question indeed.

She gestured to the surroundings in general (it was a relatively warm, sunny, fall LA day), then the fire, then her sweater.

‘I’m not cold. In fact, it’s just right. Nice and warm, but not hot or stifling.’ She shrugged again, and she glanced over at the fire pit, then back at him, _something_ in her eyes, something soft and gentle, even as it seemed as if she was looking right into his mind, right into his soul. ‘Though, I’ll need a proper fire eventually, when winter comes.’ She studied him again for a moment, then took another spoonful of pumpkin pie, sucking on the spork again as she stared at the embers for a beat. Then, she looked back at him and took her spork out of her mouth. ‘Besides, I’m a doctor. It’s not my place. And it’s _your_ fire pit.’ She reached out for another bite of pie, then nudged the plate towards him, quite deliberately. With an affectionate smile and head-shake, Mac helped himself to another generous spoonful of pie, and then Beth picked up her book again, a grin appearing on her face. ‘Have you ever wondered how dangerous it would _really_ be to be in a pool in a thunderstorm?’

He, too, grinned.

‘Of course!’

Beth’s grin widened a little, and she gestured to the open pages of her book.

‘Well, we’ve finally got an answer!’ Then, her eyes narrowed as she seemed to realize something. ‘Please tell me you’ve never actually tried testing that yourself…’

He chuckled, and picked up the giant piece of pie and scooted over to sit right next to her, so that they could both read the book simultaneously.

‘I’ve never gone for a dip during a thunderstorm to test _that._ ’

Beth looked placated for a moment, eating another bite of pumpkin pie, before her eyes narrowed again and she pulled her spork out of her mouth with a _pop_ and poked him in the arm.

‘You went _swimming_ during a _thunderstorm_? Mac...’

His expression turned more wry as he swallowed his own mouthful of pumpkin pie.

‘I didn’t _want_ to go for a swim. I wasn’t really given much choice in the matter…’

* * *

Mac woke up.

A moment after consciousness returned, he recalled his dream, with surprising clarity.

He shook his head with a groan.

His subconscious, it turned out, was almost as bad at analogies as Jack.

He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.

‘The fire pit, as a symbol for…’ He gestured vaguely. ‘…our relationship? Connection? _Something_? _Really_?’

He made a noise of frustration. He had a gargantuan vocabulary, and yet he couldn’t come up with something that sounded quite right.

With another shake of his head, he glanced at the clock on his bedside table, which showed that it was 6:30 am.

Mac threw off the covers, and got out of bed.

Going for a run solved a lot of problems.

* * *

Dressed in an MIT T-shirt and basketball shorts, carrying his running shoes, Mac paused in the living room, staring out towards the deck, at the very spot by the fire pit that Beth had sat, enjoying her pumpkin pie and her book.

_And your company,_ a little voice in his head that sounded a bit like Jack and a bit like his grandfather and somehow also a tiny bit like Bozer said, a voice that was somehow teasing and reassuring and encouraging, all at once.

He gave a soft little smile.

It was a very pleasant mental image.

* * *

It was a nice day for a run.

Warm, but not too warm, sunny, lovely fall weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another ‘deleted scene’ from _Every End is a Beginning_ (or, at least, deleted in the sense that I came up with it/thought it out in fairly significant detail but decided not to write it into _Every End is a Beginning_ ). It was supposed to be the counterpoint to Mac’s nightmare about Nikki featured in 2.03, Lipstick, and would probably have slotted in as the closing of 2.19, Business Card, or the opening of 2.20, Pool Cue. Honestly, I like it much better here; it doesn’t quite fit what I was going for in those episodes of _Every End is a Beginning._
> 
> What did you guys think? Is Mac’s subconscious’ analogy as bad as Jack’s? (And yes, Mac’s subconscious wants to supply Beth with a giant piece of pumpkin pie. Because I maintain that Mac’s subconscious reflects the extremes of all of his feelings – from being schmoopy and adorkable to his deepest fears and darkest thoughts, a la his nightmares featured in _Every End is a Beginning_.) 
> 
> Next chapter: MacGyver’s Girl. As the Edwards team heads off on a top-secret, long-term undercover mission, Alex Lucas muses on being turned down by the Phoenix’s doctor.


	5. MacGyver's Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Edwards team heads off on a top-secret, long-term undercover mission, Alex Lucas muses on being turned down by the Phoenix’s doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different this chapter! We check in on the Edwards team and what they were up to when Mac got taken by The Organization in 2.21, Defibrillator. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet, at the end of this chapter, with spoilers.

_‘...Jessie is a friend. Yeah, I know he’s been a good friend of mine, but lately something’s changed that ain’t hard to define, Jessie’s got himself a girl and I wanna make her mine…’_

Alex lounged in his seat on the jet, listening to music through his headphones and solving his 7-by-7 Rubik’s cube, which unfortunately wasn’t helping his current state of mind all that much.

He kept solving the cube without really looking, glancing up at May, Carter, Nick and Rowena, the former three playing a raucous card game and the latter watching with one of her quiet, amused smiles.

They’d just gone dark for a top-secret, probably long-term mission that they’d received this very morning, heading undercover in South Korea as business partners to investigate some very suspicious business transactions that were suspected to be linked to the North Korean regime.

But it wasn’t the terribly dangerous, high-stress mission that had Alex preoccupied.

No, that was normal for him.

Just like any other work day.

No, it was the events of two days prior, when he’d gotten, for lack of a better term, shot down (figuratively).

(Well, she’d been very nice and rather sweet about it – though very flustered and a little awkward – but she’d definitely let him down as gently as she could have, albeit also very firmly.)

(Because, he thought with an internal sigh, of course she would. It was very _her_.)

Alex was not used to being turned down by women.

He was, rather objectively speaking, very good-looking and quite charming.

He got a lot of female attention and _did_ have a tendency towards availing himself of their companionship.

The sort-of playboy reputation he’d acquired wasn’t completely unfounded, after all, even if a fair few people misinterpreted him somewhat.

Yes, he’d had a good number of one-night stands or short flings, but he was always upfront about what was on offer beforehand. A good, fun night or two or three, but definitely not a relationship. Respect, but no strings, no commitment, no attachment. Alex was firmly of the opinion that there was nothing wrong with that, since he wasn’t deceiving anybody and they were always mutually-beneficial arrangements. No harm, no foul.

(He got lonely, sometimes. He loved his team, they were his family, but still, he longed to find what Nick and Rowena had found, what Carter and May would have once they finally got their act together, which he was sure had to happen one day, he just didn’t know how long it’d take.)

(Relationships were very hard. Most of the time, a short-lived, brief – and in many ways, shallow or near-non-existent - connection was the best that was possible, and he wasn’t a strong enough man to resist.)

And as for the handful of short-lived relationships he’d had? Those relationships that had led to some people (never his team, of course, because they really, really knew him, sometimes, he thought, better than himself) assuming that he toyed with women the way he played with his Rubik’s cube, since they never lasted more than half a year? Well…he really _did_ try those times. He’d tried to offer up everything (strings, commitment, attachment) but inevitably, it all fell to pieces.

(Dating was very hard when one was a secret agent.)

(That was really all he could say in his defence.)

Honestly, Alex had absolutely no idea why he’d decided to ask the Phoenix’s doctor out anyway, given that he’d calculated that he’d had a near-zero chance of success (Beth and Mac weren’t anywhere near Carter and May territory yet, but there was clearly something – quite a lot of something – there).

_‘…You know, I wish that I had Jessie’s Girl…’_

But he’d done it, because he really, really _liked_ her, as juvenile as that sounded.

Did he know her extremely well?

No (not in the way Mac did, his brain unhelpfully supplied).

But he knew that she was whip-smart, loved science (especially the mad kind), was an excellent doctor (caring and strong and stubborn) and a genuinely good person with a little more than a touch of spitfire in her.

(Alex had a weakness for women with plenty of spirit and mettle and sass.)

He really wanted to know her better.

Hence, asking her out.

Alex sighed internally, his hands still turning his Rubik’s cube absent-mindedly.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t even dislike or resent Mac, not even a little bit.

(Resenting Beth for her choice – since she had the freedom to date, or not date, whomever she wanted, and owed nobody, not him, not Mac, not any other man, anything – didn’t even cross his mind.)

It wasn’t Mac’s fault.

Not in the slightest.

Besides, Mac was his friend.

(And he was kind of impossible to hate, in a puppy-dog sort of way, as Carter had put it.)

(Maybe it was actually fortunate that he couldn’t resent Mac. That sounded too much like one of those tropes that Carter and May liked to debate that led to a slow spiral into villainy, and Alex really didn’t want to be evil.)

Alex finished solving his Rubik’s cube, and at just that moment, Carter (May having just won the card game; she was smirking triumphantly as Nick handed over five bucks) reached over and pulled the earbud out of his left ear and put it into his own.

He listened for a moment, then shook his head at Alex with some kind of exasperation, but not before something sad and sympathetic flickered across his face.

‘Come on, man! This song, again? You’ve been listening to like _nothing_ else for the last two days!’

_That_ got everybody else’s attention (except Rowena’s; Alex was pretty sure she’d been watching him near-constantly out of the corner of her eye, out of concern, for the last two days already; everybody else was certainly keeping a closer eye on him and his feelings, and Rowena was always the most observant), and they all looked at him, that same sad, sympathetic look in their eyes for a moment, before they forced it into something lighter and more teasing.

Nick, pocketing his wallet again (or rather, his cover’s wallet), shook his head and pointed at Alex, making a face.

‘And wasn’t that song released before you were born, Flyboy? And you call me and Ro old?’ Nick slapped his thigh and pointed at Alex again. ‘You’re secretly an old man too, Flyboy! Least, that’s what your music taste says!’

Alex managed a snort in response, as Carter continued.

‘You should’ve asked me for my _recovering from being shot down_ playlist, man! It’s pretty awesome!’

May snorted.

‘You have a playlist for that?’ She made a face. ‘When was the last time you even had to use it?’

Carter responded almost immediately.

(Alex was pretty sure May was doing some kind of false-casual thing. He was also pretty sure that very few people outside the cabin of this jet would be able to tell that.)

‘About four years ago…’ That’d been around when their team had been formed. May raised an eyebrow, the look on her face clearly saying _well, then it’s going to be way out of date._ ‘…so yeah, it’s a bit out of date, but hey, most of those songs are classics, Maysie!’

May looked thoroughly unconvinced (but also a tiny bit relieved, which made Alex kind of want to beat his head against a wall – if Bozer and Riley could get their acts together, why couldn’t May and Carter? They were almost ten years older, after all, and had been doing this dance for a couple more years.), but let it slide.

There was silence for a moment, before Nick broke it.

‘You guys wanna hear the story of how Ro and I met?’ He paused for a moment, his voice growing a little bit more serious, by a degree that probably only they, being the people who knew him best, could tell. ‘The _real_ story?’ Nick had a habit of telling the three younger agents various stories about how he and Rowena had met, all different, so clearly not the truth. Rowena indulged him with some kind of exasperated fondness, and as such, none of them actually knew the _real_ story. So, of course, Alex, Carter and May all nodded eagerly, as Nick continued, with a fond little smile at the woman sitting beside him, which was returned. ‘Well, fourteen years ago, I got my heart broken. Real bad. And so, when I was deployed and we got a big and classified mission…I got reckless. Got myself in some pretty bad trouble.’ Rowena gave a dark-humoured snort at what was clearly an understatement. Nick reached out and put a hand over hers, clearly a little lost in the past. ‘I was thinking then that I was probably going to go home in a box…and then the bad guys started dropping and I could just make out the sound of shots from a sniper rifle…sweetest sound I’d ever heard, at that moment…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay? Nay? I know, I know, none of our favourite characters are actually in this…but I wanted to try something a little different! (And it’s kind of fun to parallel the Edwards team with our favourite team…and I love meta jokes.) 
> 
> Next chapter: DIY for Delilah. Matty’s team runs into a familiar face while hunting the assassin Delilah, whom The Organization’s hired for something nefarious, yet again. ‘Sam?’
> 
> Or, Cage shows up in this AU – though she’s a bit different from canon!Cage. This is the start of me adapting bits and bobs of the new season into this universe – I also have this universe’s take on 2.03, Roulette Wheel + Wire, as well as bits of 2.02, Muscle Car + Paperclip coming up. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet. Awesome Halloween episode! I do love how Jack showed great fear (yet overcame it as well), and I also loved that little moment with Jack giving Riley his gun. Of course, the team playing pranks on each other is amazing, and I do like how we got two really good tid-bits on Cage in this one – how she loves Halloween, and her being scared of water (which as an Aussie, I can tell you is considered a really ridiculous fear here). I feel a Halloween fic for this AU coming on, my pretties! (See what I did there?)


	6. DIY for Delilah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matty’s team runs into a familiar face while hunting the assassin Delilah, whom The Organization’s hired for something nefarious, yet again. _‘Sam?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell from the title, this is this AU’s re-imagining of the real Season 2 opener, DIY or Die (It’s a pretty AU re-imagining; they don’t go to Turkey in this one, or fly over Cairo!). This is also the longest chapter in this story to date, at about 5000 words, and set post-2.22, Bobby Pin.

**EMPTY OFFICE BUILDING**

**SOMEWHERE IN SACRAMENTO**

* * *

‘Clear!’

‘Clear!’

As Sarah picked her way through some badly-battered desks and moved towards a door with shattered glass in a bullet-scarred wall (their intel was at least _partially_ right – something _very_ dodgy had happened here, but like the shell casings that the gunfire must have produced, whatever operation The Organization had been running in here had been removed from the premises), Charlie and Viv’s voices rang out over her comm.

Sarah slipped quietly through the doorway, her gun at the ready.

The room, which had clearly been the headquarters of the operation, judging from the pins joined with thread embedded in the wall, which had once been adorned with marked maps or other pieces of paper, and the destroyed high-tech computer equipment that littered the floor, wasn’t empty.

As soon as Sarah entered the room, she was ambushed by a figure, dressed in khakis and a dark-green shirt, face mostly concealed (only the person’s eyes were showing) by a scarf.

Sarah gave a grunt and called over her comm for back-up from Viv and Charlie as she fought back, kicking her attacker hard in the stomach.

Whoever this was, they were clearly a pro.

* * *

Matty, a grim expression on her face, walked through the cleared abandoned office building, Charlie walking beside her.

‘So she won’t talk?’

Charlie nodded.

‘Refuses to say a word, no ID, clearly a pro.’

Matty’s expression turned grimmer.

This was _not_ a good day.

Firstly, their intel was more-or-less a bust. Sure, The Organization had definitely had a base of operations here, but they’d also cleared it out.

Secondly, they had this complication in the form of this woman that Charlie, Viv and Sarah had captured, snooping through the former Organization base.

Well, Matty thought, perhaps her day would get better.

This woman, if she’d been sent by The Organization, might have some useful intel in her head.

Matty was very, very good at breaking people down and getting into their brains, after all.

Still, she was definitely going to insist on stopping for a cheese Danish on the way home.

She stepped into the room, where Viv and Sarah were keeping a very close eye on the handcuffed woman, who was seated in a chair, scarf gone and staring at the floor.

She looked up, wisps of fine blond hair falling over her face.

Even with all her years of training, Matty couldn’t help but let a little bit of surprise show on her face.

From the looks of it, the woman before her felt the same.

‘ _Sam_?’

‘ _Matty_?’

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Mac, Jack, Riley and Bozer looked a little surprised as a slender blonde woman followed Matty into the war room.

Thornton, by contrast, did not look surprised, which itself wasn’t very surprising.

Matty took up a position by the screen, next to Thornton, and gestured to the blonde woman, who spoke.

‘Samantha Cage, CIA.’ She had a slight Australian accent. Not too heavy; she’d clearly been away from Australia for quite a while, but it was still there. Samantha clearly noticed their curiosity, especially Mac’s, and continued. ‘Former SASR, 4 Squadron.’

Jack nodded, then grinned at her, turning on the Dalton charm as-always.

‘Jack Dalton, ex-Delta Force.’ He jerked a thumb at Mac. ‘That’s Angus MacGyver, just call him MacGyver, ex-Army EOD.’ He then indicated Bozer and Riley. ‘And that’s Wilt Bozer, same goes for him, and Riley Davis. They got here in a kinda complicated way.’ Then he indicated Thornton with a bit of a smirk. ‘And that’s Patty, call her Thornton, just about everything ‘bout her’s classified.’

Cage simply nodded, an eyebrow slightly quirked, as everyone else except Thornton rolled their eyes, and Matty spoke.

‘Sam’s an old friend.’ Matty gestured to Riley, then tapped the side of her head. ‘She can hack your hard drive the way Riley can hack a computer’s hard drive.’ Matty reached out and tapped the screen, and the picture of Delilah they’d gotten in Melbourne the year before appeared. ‘We ran into each other while we were chasing Delilah.’

The Phoenix agents nodded, all being aware of Matty’s team’s pursuit of the assassin ever since she’d sprung up on their radar again, working some job (they had no idea what it was, unfortunately) for The Organization.

Cage continued, her voice very firm and very calm.

‘I was chasing her too.’ Matty tapped the screen for her, and a picture of a man in a Navy uniform appeared. ‘Two years ago, Captain Diaz, Navy SEAL, stationed at the Pentagon, was found dead in a hotel room in Pennsylvania while on vacation.’ Cage paused for a moment. ‘Delilah killed him.’

That was said with much firm conviction.

Thornton, Jack, Mac and Riley all turned to Matty, brows raised.

That was not something that any of them had heard before, and they’d dug pretty thoroughly into Delilah when they’d tried to catch her in Melbourne.

Matty spoke, glancing up at Cage for a moment.

‘Higher-ups think differently. They think it was a suicide.’

Cage crossed her arms.

‘It was staged. He was assassinated.’ Again, there was nothing but firm conviction in her voice. ‘I did some digging on my own. It was Delilah, I’m sure.’ Her mouth set into a firm line. ‘I took it to my superiors.’

Matty continued.

‘They decided not to pursue it. They didn’t think it was a lead worth investigating.’

Cage looked into the distance for a moment, then back over at them, something firm and a tiny bit defensive in her eyes.

‘So I chased it on my own.’

She’d chased it all over the world on her own. Went to Syria, unsanctioned and without back-up and risked her life.

She knew there’d be comeuppance for her actions, serious, serious comeuppance, but she owed it to Diaz.

Jack, Mac and Thornton exchanged a glance, and Jack turned to Cage and spoke.

‘You went off the books.’

Cage swallowed and nodded, maintaining eye contact with Jack all the same.

There was a moment of silence, then Matty broke it.

‘My team’s tied up chasing down all the leads we got from that abandoned base of operations. But we still need to get Delilah…’

Thornton picked up the thread.

‘So you four will work with Agent Cage to capture Delilah.’

There was another silence, and then Cage looked Jack, then Mac, then Riley, then Bozer directly in the eye.

‘Diaz’s parents have been told for two years that their son committed suicide. They _know_ that’s not true. They _know_ someone killed their son. I owe it to them, I owe it to _him_ , to bring his killer to justice.’ She paused. ‘Help would be appreciated.’

Mac, Jack, Bozer and Riley all glanced at one another, then looked back at Cage, Mac answering for the four of them.

‘We’ll help you get justice for them. I promise.’

Cage gave a very small smile and a serious nod, then gestured to Matty, who brought up some more information on the screen to start the mission briefing.

* * *

As they filed out of the war room, Mac dropped a paperclip on the table by the paperclip bowl, shaped into a boomerang.

* * *

**PHOENIX CAR**

**ON-ROUTE TO DELILAH’S LAST KNOWN LOCATION**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…So, Diaz. You’re going to a lot of trouble to track down his killer. Prepared to make some pretty big sacrifices too. You know, your whole career, possibly going to jail…all for getting justice for just one Navy SEAL-‘

Cage cut Jack off, crossing her arms.

‘Are you actually going to ask a question, or just keep insinuating things?’

Mac, sitting in the driver’s seat, rolled his eyes at the duo in the back. (While Jack and Cage were arguing over who got to drive, Mac had stolen the keys out of Jack’s pocket and also locked the front passenger seat door, to stop the inevitable fight over who got to ride shotgun.)

‘He’s trying to ask if you and Diaz were in a relationship.’

Cage simply shot Jack a look.

‘I try and get justice for my _friend_ , and you assume we’re sleeping together?’ Cage made a noise of derision, then looked Jack square in the eye. ‘I don’t fish off the company pier. I never date men or women that I meet at work.’

Then, she turned away and stared out the window, arms still crossed, signalling that the conversation was very much over.

* * *

**NICE (BUT NOT TOO NICE) HOTEL**

**LA**

* * *

Mac, Jack and Cage, all clad in disguises prepared by Bozer (they were all dressed in smart business attire, pretending to be colleagues on a work trip – or rather, pretending to be on a different _kind_ of work trip), stepped into the hotel lobby.

This was where Riley had tracked The Organization’s payment to Delilah down to.

Whatever it was, it’d been given to the front desk.

Immediately, walking as if she had a purpose, Cage strode over to the front desk, and with a polite smile, started speaking to the receptionist before Mac and Jack could do anything much.

‘Excuse me, an associate of mine was supposed to pick something up from here. She asked me to come collect it if she got caught up in business. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to reach her, so since I was just walking past with my colleagues, I thought I’d stop by and check if she’s picked it up yet…’

About ten feet away, next to a large pot plant that helpfully partially concealed them from view, Mac and Jack were scoping out the place, since Cage had taken over talking to the receptionist.

Jack leaned over and half-whispered into Mac’s ear.

‘I dunno about her, brother…she’s disrupting our mojo, don’t you think?’

Mac rolled his eyes again.

‘Jack, we work with other people all the time. Sure, the dynamic’s always different than when it’s just us, but in pretty much every case, they bring something useful to the table.’

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment, Cage left the receptionist’s desk and strode towards them.

‘She was here, and she picked up something in an envelope and left on foot.’

Jack rubbed his hands together as the three of them walked towards the door.

‘Alright then, it’s time for me to show off my AMOS skills.’

Jack started looking around the streetscape outside of the hotel, as Cage crossed her arms, resting her weight on her left leg, something a little challenging in her tone.

‘My specialty is human behaviour. An AMOS course doesn’t beat _years_ of training.’

Mac rolled his eyes yet again.

_If they keep this up, I’m definitely going to have a headache by the end of this mission._

_At least Bozer’s promised tomato soup and grilled cheese for the next dinner we get to have at home, and Beth has at least three different treatments for headaches..._

_Yeah, I know, I’m really looking on the bright side here._

_I am a glass-half-full kind of guy, after all._

He held out his hands, trying to mediate, as Jack and Cage glared at one another, every bit rivals.

‘How about you both independently decide which way we should go, and see if they match up?’

Jack and Cage both (somewhat reluctantly) acquiesced.

* * *

_For the record, we made fourteen decisions regarding which way to go._

_Jack and Cage agreed on every single one of them._

_My grandfather always said that the good kind of compromise was when everybody wins a little, not when everybody loses a little._

* * *

**ABANDONED BUILDING**

**(A SINISTER-LOOKING ABANDONED BUILDING)**

**OUTSKIRTS OF LA**

* * *

‘All the ground floor windows are barred and all the doors have high-tech locks on them...’

Cage nodded, agreeing with Jack’s assessment.

‘Means we’re probably in the right place.’

This _did_ look like a bolthole prepared by a master assassin.

Jack gave a snort.

‘Yeah, doesn’t really help us if we’re in the right spot but can’t get in.’

(At this stage, Mac was pretty sure that he was being difficult just for the sake of annoying Cage, not so much because he disliked her, but more because he was enjoying the rivalry.)

(Mac didn’t know Cage very well, but he was starting to think that she might be doing the same thing. He got the feeling that she liked the challenge and while she wasn’t antagonistic for the sake of being antagonistic, she was also fierce and definitely not soft or sweet by nature and not afraid to give as good as she got or dish it out, not in the slightest.)

Mac was staring rather intently at one of the second floor windows, and then he shifted his focus to the rusted steel fence that they were crouching beside. Then, after a moment, he got up and cut through the pieces of wire fence joining the pole that made up the top of the fence to the rest of it using the wire cutter on his Swiss Army knife, and pulled the pole off.

‘I can get us in.’

He took one end in hand, and gestured for Cage and Jack to grab the other. Cage looked rather sceptical.

‘How is this going to help us break into that very secure building?’

Jack shrugged.

‘I dunno, but I’ve just learned to have blind faith. Maybe you should close your eyes.’

As they approached the brick wall of the side of the building, Mac made a couple of last-minute estimated measurements (it was easier now that they were closer), then turned to Cage and Jack.

‘The two of you take that end, and stand there.’ He pointed to an area of the ground about fifteen feet away, directly in front of the wall. ‘Push down on the pole and keep walking forward as you can.’

Jack nodded, but Cage held up a hand.

‘It’d probably help if we knew what we were actually doing.’

Mac sighed internally (he was pretty sure he knew exactly how this was going to end – he could count the number of people who genuinely enjoyed listening to his detailed scientific explanations for what they were, rather than, at best, seeing them as some mostly-endearing, quirky character trait because they were fond of him, on one hand – and he was quite sure Cage was not going to be one of those people, and she probably didn’t have much patience right now for endearingly quirky character traits either), but started explaining nonetheless (he _did_ like explaining science, after all, and the explanations for his little tricks were always on the tip of his tongue; he mostly just satisfied them by talking to himself in his mind, for the aforementioned reasons).

‘You are going to help me overcome the Earth’s gravitational pull. There are three factors we have to consider; friction-‘

Cage shook her head and cut him off.

‘Never mind.’

She marched over to the indicated spot, pole in hand, Jack moving with her.

Mac grabbed the other end of the steel pole and started making his way up the wall.

* * *

**INSIDE THE SINISTER-LOOKING ABANDONED BUILDING**

**OUTSKIRTS OF LA**

* * *

After they finished clearing the building, finding it empty and almost devoid of any clues, Cage crossed her arms again, a glint of anger and frustration in her eyes.

She stared into the distance (or perhaps into the past) for a long moment, then spoke, voice full of that anger and frustration, but also some sort of affection, the kind that Mac and Jack recognized as that forged-in-blood affection that one had for ones brothers-or-sisters-in-arms.

‘Diaz was part of the SEAL team I got assigned to when I first went over to the Sandbox. They looked out for me. I owe it to him to bring her to justice.’ She glanced over the more-or-less empty room. ‘We _have_ to find her.’

Mac, who was crouched on the floor, and Jack, standing near Cage, exchanged a glance, then looked at her, no small amount of sympathy (or perhaps empathy) in their eyes.

It was Mac who spoke.

‘She’s very, very good. We’re not going to give up, I promised you, but…’ He shrugged a little apologetically. ‘You have to be prepared that we might not catch her _this_ time…’ He trailed off suddenly as he noticed something in the trash (mostly packaging for generic, common foodstuffs and makeup that could be purchased anywhere) that covered the floor. Mac pulled out his Swiss Army knife and used the tweezers to pick up the crinkled and creased white envelope, with the logo of the hotel that Delilah had picked her payment up from on it. ‘…But our odds of catching her just improved by about 50%.’ He held the envelope up to the light and examined it carefully, then turned to Jack. ‘Call Riley.’

* * *

**OUTSIDE A BANK**

**LA**

* * *

Mac and Cage returned from their recon mission inside the bank that Riley had traced the key that’d been inside the envelope, based on the size, shape and several serial numbers that Mac had gotten using the envelope and a trick with some leftover lipstick. The key, it turned out, was to a safety deposit box in this bank, and Mac and Cage had gone inside as very demanding customers with their own safety deposit box key (the Phoenix luckily had had one lying around for this particular bank – it’d been collected as evidence last year), in order to get a look and see if Delilah had retrieved her payment yet.

From the looks on Mac and Cage’s faces, Jack already knew the answer to that.

She’d already been and gone.

Cage and Mac climbed into the car, and Mac’s hands started working on a paperclip that took the shape of the safety deposit box key.

Jack tapped his hands on the steering wheel.

‘So, we’re out of leads.’ Riley, with Bozer’s help (his eye for detail was amazing), had already thoroughly searched all available camera footage of the area, and there was no sign of Delilah. They also had no idea how she’d left, whether by foot or by car or by public transport, so Jack’s AMOS skills weren’t of much use. ‘What are we gonna do now?’

Both Mac and Cage pondered over that question for a moment, Mac pulling out another paperclip as he thought, his expression very set, and Cage crossing her arms and staring out the window.

Then, after a moment of silence, the blonde woman spoke.

‘Delilah is a really good pro. She’ll know that the best exit strategy is to either get out straight after, before it gets out what you’ve done, or to lie low and wait for law enforcement’s guard to drop.’ Cage paused for a moment. ‘She’s either already in the wind, or she’s lying low.’ There was another pause, as Mac and Jack nodded in agreement. ‘All intel suggests that Delilah is Australian.’ There had been whispers in the intelligence community for years, but coupled with what had happened the year before on Mac, Jack, Riley and Bozer’s mission to Melbourne, it was looking more and more likely that she was indeed Australian, and likely a Melburnian. (She’d seemed so familiar with the city, after all. More familiar than a well-prepared professional could be expected to be.) Cage tapped her left arm with her right hand in an idle pattern. ‘There are some habits that you can never break.’ She leaned forward and gave Jack an address, and spoke with a bit of a warning in her voice. ‘It’s a long shot.’

Jack gave a half-shrug as he pulled the car into traffic.

‘Eh, long shot’s better than no shot.’

In the back, unnoticed by either Mac or Jack, Cage gave a small smile.

* * *

**CAFÉ RUN BY AUSSIE EXPATS**

**LA**

* * *

As they walked into the coffee shop, Cage spoke, her voice rather wry.

‘You never quite get used to the swill that Americans call coffee.’

She walked up to the counter and ordered flat whites and smashed avo on toast (whatever those were) for the three of them, her Aussie accent noticeably broader.

Mac and Jack exchanged a glance, and Jack whispered to his partner.

‘You know, brother, I’m starting to warm up to her, but if she makes us eat that Vegemite stuff…’

Mac resisted the urge to face-palm.

* * *

_An hour later, Cage’s long shot paid off._

_It seems that Australians really don’t get used to American coffee, because guess who walked in?_

_And of course, just like last time, despite our disguises, despite Cage’s presence, despite the fact that we’re all pros, she recognized us._

_Well, maybe she didn’t recognize me and Jack specifically, Bozer’s disguises are excellent, after all, but she recognized us for what we were._

_Which leads me to our current situation…_

Mac, Jack and Cage chased Delilah down the street and into an alleyway. Jack and Cage turned into the alleyway first, both with their guns drawn, as Mac looked up so that she couldn’t pull the same trick as last time.

As Jack and Cage took opposite sides of the alleyway, to clear the dumpsters (checking both behind and inside them), Delilah sprang out of the dumpster that Jack was searching, throwing her cup of still-hot coffee at the former CIA agent. It struck his exposed neck and upper chest, and Jack winced, as both Mac and Cage sprang into action, the former seizing an empty milk carton and the latter rushing over to help Jack, who was fighting hard to keep the assassin contained in the dumpster, trading blows with her, despite the red burn appearing on his neck and upper chest.

* * *

Cage grunted as Delilah’s kick (the assassin had escaped the dumpster, despite their best efforts) landed right in her ribs and sent her into the wall behind her. Mac tossed his makeshift bola at the assassin, who neatly dodged it, and Jack took advantage of her momentary distraction to kick her firmly in the stomach.

Delilah staggered towards one of the walls, and Mac pressed the advantage and seized her jacket, pulling it and then swinging her around for a moment. She very quickly broke free from his grip, landing a solid kick to his shin as she did so, but Cage was ready and waiting and tackled her to the ground after shooting Jack a couple of very quick hand signals.

The two women wrestled for a moment, Delilah seeming to get the advantage, but then Cage, half-pinned beneath her, threw her knees, followed by her feet, up into Delilah’s stomach and braced her hands on the ground at the same time, jumping up to her feet, just as Jack seized the winded assassin from behind in a chokehold.

Jack held on just long enough to make her black out, then let go, and as Mac secured the assassin’s wrists using his belt, Jack turned to the blonde woman, a smile on his face.

‘You learn that from Frank?’

Cage gave a smirk.

‘Who else?’

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Delilah safely handed over to Gonzales and a couple of his team, who were on shift on internal Phoenix security duty, Cage followed Jack and Mac through the building, expecting to head into debrief.

Instead, the two Phoenix agents headed into the locker room, both of them grabbing a change of clothes from fingerprint-locked lockers.

(That wasn’t all that surprising, considering that Jack’s shirt had a large coffee stain on it and he was sopping wet to boot – courtesy of Mac’s field treatment for Jack’s burn – and Mac was soaked through – courtesy of Jack deciding to turn the hose on his partner. Cage had thankfully managed to evade the spray.)

She half-quirked an eyebrow as she followed them back out of the locker room in the opposite direction of the war room.

‘Shouldn’t we be heading in for debrief?’

Both Mac and Jack exchanged a glance, continuing to walk down the corridor. Both of them had half-smirks on their faces as Jack spoke.

‘Nah, first stop’s the infirmary.’

Mac continued.

‘Jack’s burn needs treatment, and you must have pretty severe bruising along your torso, quite possibly bruised ribs.’

Cage shrugged, ignoring the pain in her side.

‘I’ve had worse. Debrief is usually the priority.’

Mac shook his head, a fond little smile on his face that he probably wasn’t fully aware of, and Jack gave a chuckle, also shaking his head.

Cage’s internal behavioural expert was very, very intrigued by those looks and immediately started reeling off potential explanations.

‘Not how we do things here. And that’s not gonna cut it with our Doc.’ Jack leaned a little closer to Cage, whispering conspiratorially. ‘She’s tiny, but she’s pretty scary.’

That was punctuated by Jack sending Mac a smirk. Cage’s brain focused on one particular explanation. Externally, she showed no sign of that, and instead shot Jack a _look_.

‘Matty was your boss. You should know that size is pretty irrelevant when it comes to scariness.’

Jack nodded wryly in agreement, and elbowed Mac.

‘Yeah, we definitely know that, don’t we, brother?’

Yes, Cage thought, that explanation was almost certainly the right one.

Mac rolled his eyes as they approached the infirmary, but answered with a wry tone in his voice anyway.

‘I do always want to stay on her good side.’

Jack smirked and waggled his eyebrows at Cage.

‘Yeah, or he isn’t going to get any.’

Jack had to squeak out the last word as Mac slapped his chest, just below where his burn was, and Cage shot him another one of her _looks._ (Her suspicion was 100% confirmed.)

Jack had the good grace to look contrite, and opened the door to the infirmary.

They were immediately met by Beth, who held out a hand to Cage.

‘I’m Beth Taylor.’ Her smile grew a bit wry and she gave a slightly awkward half-shrug. ‘Or Doc, around here.’

Cage shook her hand firmly.

‘Sam Cage.’

After another moment of smiling, Beth’s expression changed into her doctor-y look and she herded the three of them into a room that had been set up in the infirmary.

Once they were inside, Beth turned to Cage.

‘A little birdie told me that you might have bruised ribs.’ Cage shot Mac an unimpressed look, and Mac just affected an innocent expression. Jack smirked and mouthed _so whipped_ at Cage, which earned him an even more unimpressed look. Beth ignored the byplay between the trio of field agents, and simply pointed to a partitioned-off area in the room. ‘Shirt off, I’ve got to have a look at your ribs. I’ll be with you in a moment.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I do like to try and give people the benefit of the doubt, but…well, most of you field agent types are terrible patients, and based on what little I know about you so far…’ Beth narrowed her eyes at the other woman. ‘Do not even _think_ about escaping.’

And with that, as Cage moved to obey the doctor’s orders, a little smile on her face, Beth turned to Mac and Jack.

She addressed the older man first.

‘Anything aside from the burn?’

Jack shook his head.

‘Nope.’

She glanced over at Mac, seemingly for confirmation (the two of them, though neither were what you could call good patients, did tattle on each other if they even suspected the other was hurt), and when Mac nodded in agreement, she turned back to Jack.

‘Good. How’s the pain?’

Jack held up four fingers.

‘Mac did a real thorough job with the hose.’

That brought a wry little smile to Beth’s face (she mentally added two points to Jack’s pain rating, knowing that he always ‘rounded’ down), and gestured to the bed behind him. ‘Shirt off, I’ll have a look at that burn once I’ve checked Cage’s ribs.’

Then, Beth turned to Mac, an expectant look on her face.

Mac simply held his hands up.

‘Just a couple of bruises. Nothing else, I promise.’

Beth looked him up and down for a moment, glanced over at Jack for confirmation, then studied Mac’s face for a second, then nodded.

‘Change into dry clothes, and then you can go, Mac.’

Then, she grabbed some supplies and slipped into the partitioned-off area where Cage was.

* * *

‘…Everything after our encounter at that abandoned Organization base is covered, but you went way off the books before that, Sam.’ The blonde woman, standing with Jack and Mac in front of Thornton and Matty, who’d spoken, simply nodded. Matty continued, her voice becoming a little more sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry, Sam, but the CIA has decided to discharge you. You’ll likely face charges and potential jail time.’

Cage simply nodded again, as Mac and Jack glanced at her.

‘I knew that when I started it. And I’d do it all again.’

That was said with great conviction.

Matty, Jack, Mac and Thornton all nodded, and Matty continued, one of her knowing smile-smirks appearing on her face.

‘Well, now that you’re unemployed, would you like a job?’

A slight flicker of surprise passed over Cage’s face for a moment, which she covered by speaking.

‘I’m not going to be of much use in jail.’

Matty’s knowing smile-smirk grew wider, and Jack and Mac, since they knew her so well, could detect a very knowing look in Thornton’s eyes too.

Thornton and Matty exchanged a quick glance, then both looked back at Cage, Matty speaking.

‘We’ve got a plan for that.’

* * *

Matty led Cage along the corridor, into the observation room attached to the interrogation room that Delilah was held in, cuffed to the table, which was bolted to the floor, and under the watchful eyes of Gonzales and another agent.

‘This is your leverage.’

Cage glanced down at Matty, then at the chained assassin.

‘You plan to trade the CIA what’s in her head for dropping all charges against me.’ Matty simply nodded, as Cage continued. ‘She’s going to be hard to break…’

Matty offered her another one of her smile-smirks.

‘If anyone can get into her head, it’s you.’

A similar smile-smirk slowly appeared on Cage’s face, and she stared at the assassin for a moment, before turning back to Matty.

‘Letting her stew for a while will only help.’ She paused for a moment, staring into the distance, into the past. ‘I’ve got something else I have to do first.’

Matty nodded again.

‘Of course.’ She gestured to the door. ‘I’ve got a car ready.’

* * *

**DIAZ’S PARENTS’ HOUSE**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

As they got out of the car, Matty and Sam exchanged a glance.

The shorter woman gave a slight, encouraging nod, and gestured to the path leading to the door.

With her usual fierce determination, tempered this time by a less-usual softness, Sam walked down the path and knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay? Nay? This was my first time writing Cage, and it was written after her first episode (with edits made after). Did you guys like it? (TBH this reflects what I thought would have been a more ideal role for her – as a guest star, preferably appearing multiple times, like Sarah – rather than as main cast). Does it make sense, how I slotted her into this AU? I hope I’ve managed to get her down decently…and I also hope that you guys liked this re-imagining of 2.01, DIY or Die! (I have plans for Sam/Cage – I’m using a similar naming convention for her as I do for Thornton– in this AU – what do you guys say to the women of this _MacGyver_ universe having a girls’ day?) 
> 
> As always, requests are greatly welcomed and appreciated! 
> 
> Completely random useless thought: What was with all the mentions of ‘George’ in 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet? There were very minor plotlines/moments involving ‘George’ – firstly, the whole thing about Bozer being scared of the George Washington mask (which probably led to Mac and Jack asking Cage about being scared of various Georges), and secondly, Jack’s crazy cousin George and the stolen dead body. I’m thinking there’s 2 possibilities: 1. It’s done very deliberately to imply that Jack’s story about stealing the dead body isn’t true (hence why he named his cousin George, because they’d been talking about George Washington). 2. They let George Eads ad-lib some lines (honestly, I suspect that many of Jack’s funniest and potentially-meta-joke lines are ad-libbed by him – like the quip about playing CSI in 1.19, Compass, or about monster trucks in 1.17, Flashlight), or the cast/crew or part thereof decided that this would be hilarious and did it. 
> 
> Next chapter: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Riley and Beth host a girls’ night in, featuring cocktails, nail painting, Bechtel-test-passing and much discussion of badassery and doppelgangers.


	7. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley and Beth host a girls’ night in, featuring cocktails, nail painting, Bechtel-test-passing and much discussion of badassery and doppelgangers. ‘You know, don’t you think that Alex Summers looks a bit like Mac?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-2.22, Bobby Pin, and written partly because I wish I had such an awesome girl gang! 
> 
> Warning on this chapter for a very brief, rather implied mention of past sexual assault.

**RILEY AND BETH’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘…Anyone want to bet on what Aunt Patricia, Matty, Sarah and Rowena are doing right now?’

Viv, who was standing at the kitchen counter of Riley and Beth’s condo, along with Sam, the two of them making some pretty deadly-looking (and also delicious-looking) cocktails, posed the question to the group: Sam standing beside her, Riley and Lil on beanbags in front of the TV, playing _Resident Evil 7_ on Riley’s awesome gaming rig (Lil had finally gotten over her weird sort-of fear of Riley) and Beth and May, sitting on the couch, the former painting the latter’s nails.

(Patricia, Matty, Sarah and Rowena had been invited to the girls’ night in as well, of course, but had all politely declined.)

(Of course, being a little older than the attendees, perhaps they just weren’t interested…but _all_ of them declining? Well, that set off something in all of their minds, all being in the secret agent business.)

Lil shook her head as she blew off the heads of some Molded, eyes never leaving the screen as she replied.

‘If they don’t want us to find out, we’re never going to find out.’

Riley gave a snort, tossing her head in the general direction of Sam, though her eyes remained focused on the game. Sam had a little smile on her face that’d appeared as soon as Lil had spoken.

‘She’s gonna take that as a challenge.’

Sam’s smile widened marginally.

Viv picked up a couple of cocktails, handing one each to Riley and Lil, who paused their video game. She shook her head in mock disappointment.

‘You guys are no fun.’ Then, after a moment, a smirk spread across her face, as she sat down elegantly on the couch with her own cocktail in her hand, as Sam put down another two on the table for Beth and May, then sipped her own. ‘Alright…who wants to bet on at least some of the men trying to crash tonight?’

Lil took a sip of her cocktail and raised her brows (which simply made Sam and Viv give little smirks), then spoke.

‘You know it’s not going to be one of ours.’ By _ours_ , she meant the men on Matty’s team. ‘Charlie would be the most likely candidate, but even that’d be a stretch…and he’s furniture shopping with Marissa for their new place.’

Riley snorted as she drank some of her own cocktail.

‘Jack _would_ get it into his head to crash, since he’s _Jack_ , but he’s at a football game with Nick.’

Beth looked up from where she’d just finished painting May’s left pinky, putting the nail polish brush back into the bottle, as she’d finished her task.

‘Besides, his two most likely partners-in-crime are otherwise occupied. Bozer is _making a film.’_

The last three words were punctuated with air quotes.

Riley gave another snort and shook her head with much fondness and affection and amusement.

‘He’s buying me a birthday present. I already know what it is.’ She shrugged, her smile growing softer and more affectionate. ‘I’ll pretend to be surprised.’

Lil made a little _aww_ sound which she tried to hide with a healthy draught from her drink, while Beth smiled fondly and a very knowing look appeared on Sam and Viv’s faces.

(May looked a little lost in thought.)

Beth passed May her cocktail (the other woman took it carefully, so as not to ruin her freshly-painted and still wet nails), then picked up her own drink, though she didn’t immediately take a sip.

‘And Mac is very busy squeegeeing pancake batter off the kitchen ceiling before Bozer gets home.’ She held up her phone with a smile much like Riley’s. ‘He sent me a photo.’

The photo showed a large splatter of pancake batter on a ceiling that very much resembled Mac and Bozer’s, with a hand that looked very much like Mac’s holding a squeegee.

There was silence for a moment, before chatter broke out.

‘ _How_?’

‘ _Why_?’

‘We shouldn’t even be surprised…’

‘…It’s _Mac_.’

Beth just grinned, an expression halfway between fond amusement and an excited little girl on Christmas morning.

‘He’s replicating the pancake-making toaster he made in college.’ She glanced back down at the photo. ‘I thought the viscosity, or more accurately, relatively low viscosity, of pancake batter would be the main problem, but it seems like the explosive upwards force exerted by a toaster is his main problem…’

She trailed off with a little shrug, a slightly awkward motion, and sipped a little gingerly at her drink instead, and May picked up the conversation.

‘And Carter’s gone shopping for parts for a new rig that he’s really excited about.’ There was a fond look on her face, much like those that’d been on Beth and Riley’s. Riley smirked, barely hiding it behind her cocktail, while Viv and Sam exchanged another knowing look, the look on Viv’s face a little more teasing, the one on Sam’s a little more certain, and a little more evaluative. ‘He dragged Alex out with him, since he thought he might be helpful.’

Viv gave another snort, rolling her eyes.

‘ _He_ won’t crash if knows what’s good for him…’

She took a healthy swig of her drink, and Sam and Riley exchanged a knowing look; Riley smirking, a hint of a smirk on Sam’s face too.

Sam was firmly convinced there was some serious UST there. (And a couple of other issues, _definitely_ including communication issues, because there were _always_ communication issues when UST was involved, and communication issues were the root of so many problems, and a healthy dose of stubbornness too.)

She was pretty much always right about these things.

Then, she shook her head after taking another drink from her glass.

‘Enough about the men, this girls’ night has got to firmly pass the Bechtel test.’ She thought for a moment, then continued, raising her glass towards the others a little. ‘Most badass thing you’ve ever done.’

Viv turned to her, something a little probing in her eyes, much like a look that her aunt’s eyes often had.

‘Most badass movie-style, or in a more… _personal…_ fashion?’

Sam considered her for a moment too long, then shrugged.

‘Whatever you feel like sharing.’ She took a sip of her drink, then spoke. ‘Took out four guys with semi-automatics on my own in Syria while on an unsanctioned mission to get justice for an old friend that probably should have landed me in jail.’

That, Viv was quite sure, was Sam’s most badass movie-style moment.

(She wasn’t the only one with that suspicion.)

(It was probably fair enough, Sam was the newcomer to the group, after all.)

(And it was probably in her nature – in Viv’s experience, the best interrogators and best profilers liked to keep everything locked up.)

Unexpectedly, it was Lil who spoke next.

‘Well, it’s not exactly badass, I’m mean, we’re not all badass…’

Beth gestured to Lil with her glass, nodding in agreement.

Sam regarded the very-much-not-field analyst and the doctor for a moment, then spoke, her voice firm and calm, yet reassuring all the same.

‘There’s many ways to be badass.’

That got a round of little smiles and nods of agreement. Lil drained her cocktail glass, and then spoke, voice probably not quite as calm and flippant as she’d have liked.

‘When I came into work the day after the attack at the Phoenix, determined to keep going on, just like it was any other workday…and succeeded.’

Riley clinked her glass to Lil’s in a toast, and Beth, who was sitting next-closest to Lil, reached out and clasped her shoulder.

It was the doctor who spoke next, after another sip of her drink.

‘When I treated Murdoc…after he tried to kill me, Mac and countless innocent people.’

That got Riley to raise her drink towards Beth in a toast of sorts, which was returned with a little smile.

May knocked back her drink, then spoke, her voice softer and a little more brittle than they’d expected.

‘First time I did honeypot work. Real honeypot work, more than just a couple of flirty glances.’

There was something on her face, in her eyes, that told them not to ask.

(That she couldn’t bear telling them the whole story. Not yet.)

Sam regarded her for a long moment, longer than the others, who’d turned their attention to Riley, who was sharing the story of that mission in Philadelphia, when she’d had to carry out most of it alone, going into a building full of hostiles to stop a chemical attack with Jack’s gun in hand (the first time she’d had to carry – the first time she’d carried intentionally on a mission, ever – after killing Horn). Then, she gave a little nod, somehow conveying that sympathy she felt to May. After a moment, May too gave a little nod, then got up to refill her drink.

After Riley had finished speaking, all attention turned to Viv.

Viv stared into her half-empty glass for a moment, and a little hesitantly, Beth broke the silence, her voice soft and gentle and perhaps slightly doctor-y.

‘You don’t have to share if you don’t want to…’

Viv looked up from her glass and shook her head rather firmly.

‘No...’ She paused for a moment. ‘Aunt Patricia…well, I wouldn’t call them mistakes, but…she made some decisions. They set her on a path.’ Viv paused again. ‘I’m quite like her, and I do admire her, but I don’t want to walk that path. I don’t want to follow in her footsteps. So…’ She drained her glass in one rather impressive gulp. ‘I’m going to share.’ She paused, eyes scanning the other women’s faces, her _friends’_ faces, for a moment. ‘It was a long time ago…’

* * *

‘You know, don’t you think that Alex Summers looks a bit like Mac?’

Lil made that observation partway through _X-Men: First Class._

The film was promptly rewinded to a moment that had a good shot of Alex Summers’ face and paused.

‘I can see that.’

Riley raised her phone to take a picture.

‘I am going to have _so_ much fun with this.’

‘A different haircut and outfit and they could be twins…’

‘I can’t believe I didn’t see that.’

‘I really don’t see it.’

All eyes turned to Beth as she finished speaking, their owners with incredulous expressions, to various degrees.

Beth shrugged, looking rather befuddled.

‘What? I really don’t see it.’

* * *

‘That guy from _CSI_ , right?’

Riley nodded in response to Lil’s question.

‘He’s _totally_ Jack’s doppelganger.’

Sam gave a snort.

‘ _Jack_ , a CSI?’

Riley simply pointed at her.

‘He’s at least as much a CSI as you are a hot eye-candy chick who turns into an evil robot.’

Sam looked rather disgusted, and just ate some more ice-cream from her bowl rather than respond.

She was quite firmly convinced that she bore no more than a slight passing resemblance to the actress, but apparently her friends disagreed.

* * *

**SHOOTING RANGE**

**LA**

* * *

Patricia, Rowena, Sarah, Matty and Mama Colton all lined up in five adjacent lanes at the firing range, each eyeing off the target before them.

Sarah gave a little smirk.

‘Loser buys dinner and the first round of drinks?’

Patricia and Rowena simply nodded, little smiles on their faces, Mama smiled and cocked her shotgun, and Matty smirked, glancing up at Sarah.

‘You’re on, Adler.’

Then, the shortest woman turned to Mama.

‘You _are_ coming to Mac’s tomorrow, right? Jack, Mac, Riley and Bozer will be _insufferable_ if they don’t get a chance to see you.’

Patricia chipped in at that moment, voice rather wry.

‘ _Especially_ Jack.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, lots and lots of meta jokes. Because I am fandom trash (though I had to look up Isabel Lucas on Wikipedia to find out what else she was in to make that joke…). Did you guys enjoy that? (Very OC-heavy, I know, but I hope it was fun anyway? To be honest, I don’t think you’d be reading this if you didn’t like my OCs anyway, so…)
> 
> And of course, Mac’s pancake-making toaster makes another appearance! (I’m fairly certain it’s made it into almost every single one of my stories/universes to date…) 
> 
> As always – drop me a line if you have a request!
> 
> Next chapter: Thicker than Blood. The murder of a Pentagon official’s girlfriend and her kids by her ex re-opens old wounds for Jack, not to mention causes him some new physical ones. Luckily, even if he hasn’t got little Jacks, he’s got his family to look after him.


	8. Thicker Than Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The murder of a Pentagon official’s girlfriend and her kids by her ex re-opens old wounds for Jack, not to mention causes him some new physical ones. Luckily, even if he hasn’t got little Jacks, he’s got his family to look after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-2.22, Bobby Pin. This is essentially Jack-whump with a hefty dose of role-reversal and Team-as-Family. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.06, Jet Engine + Pickup Truck, with spoilers, at the end of this chapter.

_It all started, unfortunately, with a murder._

_Three murders, to be precise._

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Thornton, tightly-leashed anger in her eyes, though the rest of her countenance and posture were as cool and calm as ever, pointed to the screen.

‘…38-year-old Maria Martinez and her children Ora, twelve, and Gustavo, sixteen, were found dead this morning in their home.’ Jack, Mac, Riley and Bozer’s expressions grew grim, and Jack’s hands clenched into fists, while Mac swallowed and nodded, an action repeated by Bozer, and Riley, after a moment, glanced quickly over at Jack. ‘Ms Martinez was the girlfriend of a Pentagon official, and given the signs of a struggle…’ A series of photos of the Martinez family home appeared on the screen. ‘…there are concerns that this may have been a kidnapping attempt gone wrong.’

* * *

_Now, that would have serious national security implications._

_However, not everything is that complicated. Even if it seems like it sometimes._

_It turned out to be much simpler than that. Albeit even more tragic._

* * *

Jack swore.

Riley, Bozer and Mac all turned to stare at him, no small amount of concern in their eyes.

* * *

_Ms Martinez and Ora and Gustavo weren’t murdered in a failed attempt to kidnap them to blackmail Ms Martinez’s boyfriend into committing treason._

_They were murdered by Ms Martinez’s ex._

_Ora and Gustavo’s own father._

_Who, as Riley put it, is an abusive asshole._

_Now, that was our cue to head back to the Phoenix and turn the case over to local police._

_But you know us. Of course, there was no way we were doing that._

_It’s our job to stop bad guys. It’s our job to catch them._

_And this guy was textbook bad guy._

_So, of course, we all knew that Thornton would cover for us._

* * *

**BIKER GANG CLUBHOUSE**

**BALTIMORE**

* * *

_I forgot to mention that said abusive asshole is a member of a biker gang with quite the reputation, didn’t I?_

_He’s got a reputation, too._

_And so do all his friends._

_Of which there were a lot…_

* * *

With both grim focus and some kind of _fire_ and _pain_ in his eyes, Jack cracked his knuckles, striding determinedly to the clubhouse door, ready to play his part in their plan: be the distraction.

As they set up the second part of their plan (the takedown), Mac, Riley and Bozer exchanged even more concerned looks.

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

As soon as they got back to the Phoenix, debrief having been completed on the plane, Jack headed off towards the gym, despite the fact that he had a dislocated shoulder and a probably-fractured collarbone, and thus, his left arm was in a sling (which Mac had made and put on his grumbling – and not in his typical mostly-amusing, making-some-light-in-the-darkness way, either – partner, after putting his shoulder back into place and inspecting his collarbone, with advice and assistance from Beth over video-call), and the fact that he also had more than a few bruises, including a pretty impressive shiner.

(He had thrown himself into the fray – as was the plan – and while Jack was a consummate fighter and so well-trained that he barely had to think about it anymore, he’d been more reckless, less controlled, than usual, hence the injuries being this serious.)

He really wanted to punch some bags.

Mac, Riley and Bozer exchanged looks for a moment, and with a little nod, Mac took off down the corridor after his partner, jogging a little to catch up to the older man, and Riley and Bozer stepped back out of the door they’d just entered.

They had a job to do.

* * *

‘Jack…’ Mac reached out and put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. Jack shrugged him off, continuing to march doggedly towards the gym. Internally, Mac sighed rather worriedly. Externally, he rolled his eyes and did his best drill-sergeant impression. ‘Jack!’ Mac so rarely raised his voice, that that got Jack to stop his tracks, though he stubbornly didn’t turn to face the blonde. Mac’s voice was softer and a bit gentler, though still very firm, when he spoke again. ‘You need to go to the infirmary.’

Jack _did_ turn to him at that.

‘You strapped me up real good, brother, and I’ve had much worse. I’ll be fine-‘

Mac rolled his eyes and sighed internally with worry again.

(Jack always complained that Mac was a terrible patient, but it wasn’t as if Jack himself was any better.)

‘I’d like to see you try that on Beth.’ Mac deliberately made his expression more wry. ‘If I let you go punch bags in your current condition, I’m a dead man walking.’

The joke made Jack smile, just a little bit, and some of the fight (that anger, that fire, that Mac thought was definitely fuelled by one of Jack’s scarred-over wounds – maybe his deepest scarred-over wound – and his remaining guilt, despite the fact that Riley and Diane had forgiven him) went out of him.

He huffed out a breath, and didn’t resist when Mac gently put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and started guiding him to the infirmary.

* * *

As soon as they reached the infirmary, Beth gestured for Jack to sit down on a bed in a little room that she’d prepared, then addressed him and gestured at Mac with a little motion of her head.

‘Would you like him to stay or go?’

Jack, mind full of turmoil and not in a very good mood, actually had to consider that for a moment, before he looked up at his partner again.

‘Brother, can you get me a shirt to wear? I don’t wanna go home in a hospital gown…’

(Mac had cut open part of Jack’s shirt in order to deal with his injuries in the field, and then put it somewhat back together with paperclips. Beth would probably cut him out of his shirt, and he really didn’t want to wear a hospital gown.)

Mac stared at his partner for a moment, then nodded and slipped back out of the infirmary, heading for the locker room, but not before picking up a pair of scissors (sure, he had scissors in his Swiss Army knife, but these were better and easier to use) and a roll of gauze, scribbling a quick note for Beth to inform her of the fact (he didn’t want to mess up her carefully-ordered and carefully-stocked infirmary, after all).

He had a half-formed plan in his head for cobbling together a shirt suitable for someone with a recently-dislocated left shoulder and probably-fractured collarbone.

He’d probably have to buy Jack a new shirt, but it wasn’t as if black T-shirts were hard to find or expensive, anyway.

(And Jack was more than his partner; he was family.)

(He couldn’t begrudge spending money on his family in the slightest.)

* * *

**JACK’S CAR**

**ON-ROUTE TO JACK’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Jack, sitting in the front passenger seat of his own car (Mac was driving), made a face as he inspected his jury-rigged shirt.

‘You know, brother, I ain’t complaining, ‘cause this is way better than a hospital gown, but you’ve gotta make some improvements to this before you put it on the market. The lines are terrible.’

Externally, Mac rolled his eyes.

Internally, he let out a sigh of relief, that little knot of worry in his stomach starting to unravel.

Jack sounded just like his usual self.

And he wasn’t faking it, Mac was sure.

In the back seat, Beth gave a small smile and shot off a quick group text. Then, her smile widened and became more teasing.

‘I’m not sure that’s a problem; fashion nowadays is very _interesting._ I can see that on the catwalk. Mac, in fact, I think you’ve missed your calling! You should have left MIT for New York Fashion Week!’

* * *

**JACK’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Bozer opened the door, ushering them inside with a rather extravagant bow.

Inside, Jack’s huge flat-screen TV showed the menu of his beloved _Die Hard_ DVD, ready to be played, and there was a delicious smell in the air.

In the kitchen, Riley was plating up dinner, some kind of simple, homely and delicious-looking frittata, studded with vegetables, cheese and the assorted deli cuts that Jack had had in the fridge.

The former CIA agent’s brow furrowed.

‘Thought I was out of eggs…’

Bozer made a disappointed _tut-tut_ sound.

‘You were, man! How could you have let that happen?’

Riley pointed at Jack with the spatula she was holding.

‘It’s called grocery shopping, old man.’

Come to think of it, his glass-faced pantry (it’d been like that when he’d bought the house and he’d never bothered changing it, not really caring what his kitchen looked like) looked quite a bit fuller than he remembered.

He suddenly felt calmer and, for lack of better terminology, more _himself_ again.

Less full of turmoil and guilt-and-regret-fuelled fire.

Riley put down the spatula, and walked up to him and pulled him gently into a side-hug of sorts, the best that she could, anyway, given his shoulder and collarbone and sling.

Jack hugged her back as best he could, the simple, silent gesture somehow helping even more than words.

(Jack was a hugger. And if pictures spoke a thousand words, gestures probably had to speak at least a hundred thousand…)

Mac and Beth picked up the plates of food, while Bozer grabbed a handful of cutlery and Riley led Jack over to the couch, an arm still around him.

* * *

Jack ate his dinner on the couch, one-handed with his plate resting on an improvised lap-table made by Mac, watching _Die Hard_ and surrounded by most of his surrogate family.

By the time Hans Gruber showed up, he was feeling better.

By the time Patty showed up just as John McClane abseiled down the building with a fire hose, a six-pack of his favourite beer in her left hand, he was feeling much, much better.

* * *

_We’re family, all of us._

_And family looks after each other._

_Always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay? Nay? Do I use Jack’s Die Hard obsession too much? I’d like to say that this is NOT inspired by 2.02, Muscle Car + Paperclips; I wrote this (hours) before I watched it. Any similarities are coincidental!
> 
> Mac-the-fashion-designer started as a joke in _Just Another Patriotic Guy_ …and is slowly growing into a bit of a running gag in my stories, as many of the odd things my brain decides to spit out seem to do. 
> 
> As always – requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated!
> 
> Next chapter: The Gentleman Inventor. Mac invents a device to enable women to zip and unzip their dresses without assistance. Of course, there’s a story (or two) there. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.06, Jet Engine + Pickup Truck: Great episode! I really loved how Annabelle appeared again (now we’ve just got to have a re-appearance of Valerie!), and Mac and Jack in their ridiculous Sami reindeer herder outfits (at least, I’m pretty sure that’s what they are…). I also really loved how Bozer and Riley got a bit more screen-time and got to play at being big heroes – I personally think Bozer is a bit underrated as a character, but this was a great episode for him. I also find it humorous that the first person whom Cage kissed on-screen was Jack, and I loved Mac’s quick and dirty distillation apparatus (I’m a chemist-in-training, sue me!) I still feel like they’re laying the Mac/Cage on a bit thick, though…


	9. The Gentleman Inventor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac invents a device to enable women to zip and unzip their dresses without assistance. Of course, there’s a story (or two) there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-2.22, Bobby Pin. I might be pushing the T-rating a bit here; I think it’s still acceptable, but do let me know if you think I need to change the rating on this (I’ll put it in a separate M-rated collection, which I suppose might free me up to write some M-rated one-shots for this series, deal with some darker/heavier/more adult themes).

**RILEY AND BETH’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘Uh...Mac, could you give me a hand?’ Mac looked up from where he was sitting on the couch next to Beth and Riley’s coffee table. He was building a sculpture of a small ribosomal subunit using some paperclips and the leftover popcorn that he and Beth had been eating while watching _Mythbusters._ His girlfriend of three weeks (well, it’d been three weeks since their first date, and since they’d been ‘official’ since Christmas, he figured that he could say that, even if it was technically still four days until it was three weeks since Christmas) was poking her head out of her bedroom door, a little pink-cheeked and a bit sheepish. ‘I can’t do up the zip on my dress myself…’

He got up immediately, crossing the living room floor in a few strides, and stepped into her bedroom (which, he realized, he hadn’t been in since he and Jack and Bozer had helped Riley and Beth move in…he pushed that thought firmly away), reaching for the zip, which had already been pulled up to just above the small of her back, as she lifted her hair out of the way.

(Beth was getting dressed up as she was going out for dinner with her parents, since she hadn’t been able to see them at Christmas or New Year’s – her mom had come to LA to attend a conference, and her dad had travelled to the West Coast with his wife as he wanted to speak with some investors based in Silicon Valley and besides, they wanted to see their beloved only child.)

_Before you ask, I’m not going._

_We have been dating for three weeks._

_And we’re taking it slow._

_Now is not the time to meet the parents._

_Not yet._

Mac started pulling the zipper up.

There was something very intimate about doing your girlfriend’s dress up for her.

Especially in her bedroom.

Especially while there was nobody else in the house.

(Riley and Bozer were at the movies.)

Internally, Mac rolled his eyes at himself.

_Get a grip, MacGyver._

He finished zipping up Beth’s dress and leaned forward a little to press a kiss to the top of her head, wanting a moment of closeness, being careful to not mess with the floral clips in her hair.

Beth turned around and smiled up at him, going up on her toes a little to press a kiss to his cheek in thanks. Her cheeks were a bit flushed; she’d clearly felt that same _intimacy_ that he had and/or had some inkling of what had been passing through his mind.

‘Thanks, Mac.’

‘My pleasure.’

Beth’s smile widened further, and she picked up her shoes, handbag and coat, then stepped into the living room.

She stopped and stared at the structure on the coffee table for a moment.

‘Wow…it really does look just like a small ribosomal subunit!’ Then, she glanced up at the clock on the wall, and hurriedly put on her shoes. He held up her coat for her, helping her slip in to it. ‘Sorry, Mac, I really do need to go, I don’t want to be late!’

Mac simply smiled and took her hand, following her to the door.

‘Say hi to your parents for me?’

Beth smiled broadly up at him and squeezed his hand gently.

‘Of course!’ She kissed him goodbye, then opened the door. ‘See you, Mac.’

And with a last smile, she was gone, and Mac was left alone, in his girlfriend’s home, trying very hard not to think about doing up the zip on her (very, very flattering) dress and trying even harder not to think about doing the reverse.

(He wasn’t doing a very good job.)

(At least, not until…)

_Then, it hit me._

_How is Beth going to get out of that dress when she gets home, if Riley isn’t back from her date with Bozer?_

_How would she have gotten in to it if I weren’t here?_

_What about women who live alone?_

_This is really a problem._

Mac glanced at the small ribosomal subunit model sitting on the coffee table and the bowl of paperclips sitting next to it. Then, he turned his head to the kitchen, where he knew the forks were kept in the left-hand side of the top drawer of the third cabinet from the left.

_I’m a problem-solver._

He started towards the kitchen.

* * *

**FOUR HOURS LATER**

* * *

The door opened, and Mac gave a start, having just put the finishing touches on his invention. (It’d turned out to be more complicated that he’d thought it’d be, particularly as he wasn’t building something for single-use, something really quick and dirty in the field – he was making something designed for long-term and reasonably frequent use, and he wanted it to be at least decent-looking, unlike his usual in-the-field inventions, which he gave absolutely no consideration to the form of, only the function. Furthermore, it wasn’t as if he had any experience with doing a dress up while wearing it, so that made it harder too.)

Beth stepped inside, and her brow furrowed as she saw him.

‘Mac? What are you going here?’ She closed the door behind her. ‘Well, not that you’re not always welcome, of course, but I thought you’d have gone home by now…’

He gave a sheepish little smirk and held up the device in his right hand.

‘I got inspired and lost track of time…’ Beth walked over, and he handed the device over, which she inspected with great interest, clearly curious as to what had taken four hours of his time and had gotten him so caught up that he’d lost track of time completely. ‘It’ll allow you to zip and unzip your dress completely on your own.’

Her smile widened.

‘Tested it yet?’ She sounded like she knew the answer, since it was obvious. Mac simply shook his head. Kicking off her heels, Beth stepped into the doorway of her bedroom. ‘Well, I can test it out right now and give you instant feedback!’ The door clicked closed behind her, and then about thirty seconds later, the door opened and Beth stuck her head and torso out again, grinning and holding up the device, her dress threatening to slip off her shoulders. ‘It’s _amazing_ , Mac!’ She glanced at the device, then back over at him again. ‘It should work for all other dresses, right?’

Her dress slipped a little more. Due to her enthusiasm, she didn’t notice.

That, coupled with the fact that she was grinning up at him, marvelling over one of the creations his crazy brain threw out…well, his brain capacity decreased 10%.

‘Uh…yeah, of course.’

Her grin widened, and she reached out and hugged him.

_And there goes another 15% of my brain capacity._

‘Thank you, Mac.’ She let go and held up the device again. ‘You really should sell these.’ She stared at it for a moment and cocked her head a little to the left. ‘And maybe the Phoenix should start issuing them to female agents for solo missions. And I’m sure Viv and Sarah would appreciate one too…’ She turned back to the object in her hands. ‘So you used a fork, and some paperclips, and…what is this…oh, a chopstick, wrapped in some duct-tape…’

He, too, grinned broadly, and reached out for her again, pulling her into his arms, and then leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

‘You’re awesome.’ And then, to distract himself a little, because her dress was still undone and he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it up again, he continued. ‘And I promise I’ll buy you and Riley some new forks.’

She gave a little laugh.

‘Not an issue, Mac. I picked up two dozen on sale yesterday after you built us our coat hooks last week.’ She gestured at the fork-based series of hooks attached to an old plank that hung by the door. Her smile turned a bit more wry and yet more fond. ‘I thought they’d be useful to keep on hand.’

He kissed her again, properly this time, before straightening up and letting go of her, tucking an escaped strand of hair back behind her ear.

‘You are really, really awesome.’

Cheeks a little flushed, Beth smiled back at him.

‘As are you!’

Then, she seemed to realize that her dress was still undone, because her cheeks pinked further. She looked at the device that was still in her right hand, and with a little half-shrug and a slightly-sheepish smile, zipped it back up with that handy little object.

He grinned.

* * *

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

**THREE BLOCKS AWAY FROM THE CHINESE EMBASSY**

**WASHINGTON D.C.**

* * *

Cage got into her car, which had been parked close, but not _too_ close, to the embassy, and used that strange-looking thingamajig that had been given to her, along with her Kevlar-embedded sequined red dress, by Matty when she’d been given this mission to interrogate the Chinese ambassador.

(Which had been a piece of cake.)

With the device, it was easy to undo the zip of her dress and shrug into more comfortable and practical streetwear.

Cage smiled, a little surprised (it looked _weird,_ a bit like a fork…).

‘This…whatever…is useful.’

Matty, over her comm, gave a snort of laughter.

‘You’ve got Baby Einstein to thank for that.’

(Cage had been pretty sure that this was Mac’s work as soon as she’d seen it, just as she’d been quite sure that Bozer had made her dress, though it was nice to have it confirmed.)

(Though, she’d let everyone think that she’d worked it out and was 100% sure based on her own skills alone.)

(A true master interrogator never revealed all her secrets, after all.)

‘Can we get him to work on heels that are more comfortable to run in and fight in next?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously inspired by Mac helping Cage with her dress in 2.02, Muscle Car + Paperclips. Surely that got the cogs turning in Mac’s head! (‘This is an inefficient and inconvenient process, how can I fix it?’) I can’t imagine it’s the first time that a woman has asked Mac to help her with her dress (he had a girlfriend for two years who was very fond of *seducing* him, after all), but I imagine that in the past, he was probably too distracted by Nikki to be thinking about the impracticalities while undoing the zip on her dress for her…
> 
> As always – please do let me know if you’ve got a request! 
> 
> Next chapter: Last First Date. Four days before Christmas, Mac and Beth finally go on their long-awaited first date. Mac manages to follow _most_ of his grandfather’s rules for properly courting a lady.


	10. Last First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four days before Christmas, Mac and Beth finally go on their long-awaited first date. Mac manages to follow _most_ of his grandfather’s rules for properly courting a lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post-2.22, Bobby Pin, of course. Fluff, fluff and more fluff, both of the friendship/family and romance variety!

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

_I really should not be this nervous._

_Nine hours ago, I jumped, with a bit of assistance, of course, over the gap between two rooftops, nine stories up, and I’m terrified of heights._

_I think I might be even more nervous now._

_Even conservatively, the chance of her saying no is less than 20%, and most of that’s just due to her having other plans already._

_Why am I so nervous?_

Mac shook himself out of it, and walked through the door to the infirmary, where his favourite doctor ( _that is terrible, MacGyver, don’t say that out loud, even if it’s true)_ was packing a series of standard medical kits, ready to be sent off on missions after being lightly customized for the particular mission and team.

She looked up and smiled at him as he entered, having already checked him over for injuries (none, save three bruises and one scrape) a couple of hours ago after he’d returned from Seattle, before debrief.

‘Hi, Mac. Are you heading home now?’

He lifted a shoulder and gave some kind of half-smirk.

‘Well, I’ve got something to do first, but after that, yeah.’ He paused for a moment, ears burning under his hair. ‘Beth…would you like to have dinner with me? Tonight? And…uh, go bowling?’

Internally, Mac kicked himself, because he’d _practiced_ this. Inside his head and even (he was taking this secret to the grave) in front of the mirror.

(That was only the _one_ time.)

He’d meant to be more suave than that.

But Beth really didn’t seem to care (which, he supposed, made a lot of sense objectively – she knew him so well now, crazy-and-dorky-and-a-little-awkward mad-scientist him, and still…well, was _very fond_ of him), and grinned up at him, cheeks a little pink.

He was pretty sure he started grinning like an idiot at that moment, but found he didn’t really care.

‘I’d love to, Mac.’ She paused for a moment, blinked twice and then laughed. ‘You’re really good at bowling, aren’t you?’

He nodded with a small smirk.

‘I’ve managed ten strikes in a single game. Four times.’

_My grandfather said that trying to impress the lady was always a good idea._

_As long as one wasn’t dishonest._

_And I’m not lying, or even embellishing the truth._

_Not in the slightest._

Her eyebrows went up a little and her eyes widened.

‘Well, I’ve got to see that!’ She tilted her head a little to the left. ‘Do you have an algorithm, or do you just kind of make it up as you go along?’ She paused again for a moment. ‘That was a silly question, wasn’t it?’

He shook his head, still, he was sure, grinning like an idiot.

Or, more likely, even more like an idiot.

‘No, bowling’s not like what I do in the field. Parameters never change, available materials don’t change, variables don’t even vary that much…why improvise every time when I can create an algorithm?’

She nodded, still grinning up at him, and then a more teasing note slipped into her voice and her expression.

‘It _would_ be very inefficient to improvise _all_ the time, even for you!’

He nodded in agreement, still grinning like an idiot.

‘I’ll pick you up at 6?’

Beth nodded, her grin widening.

‘Looking forward to it, Mac.’

After a brief and slightly awkward moment of the two of them grinning rather goofily at each other (or at least that’s what Bozer would have described it as, if he’d been there), Mac stepped back out of the infirmary, leaving Beth to her work.

He had a few things to do before 6.

* * *

**RILEY AND BETH’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Beth opened the door to her bedroom and looked imploringly at her roommate, who was sprawled out on the couch in the living room playing _Resident Evil 7._

‘Riley?’ The hacker paused her video game. ‘Can you help me, please?’ With a nod and a little smirk, Riley got up and stepped into Beth’s room after the doctor. ‘I don’t know what to wear…’

What looked like the entire contents of Beth’s wardrobe, minus her work clothes, was spread out over her bed, albeit in a fairly ordered way (dresses at the head of the bed, then skirts, then pants at the foot, with shirts on the far side of the bed to them), as was characteristic of her.

Riley raised an eyebrow.

‘You know that the most important thing is to dress so that _you_ feel like you look hot, right, not for a guy?’ Beth just shot her a _look,_ a very much _of course I know that_ look and Riley gave a little smile and continued, her voice and expression growing more teasing. ‘And you know it’s Mac, right? You could show up in a potato sack and he’d fall over himself telling you how pretty you look, and _mean it.’_ That made her roommate blush (Riley filed all that away to tell Jack and Bozer all about later), but she didn’t protest beyond looking rather sceptical, so Riley felt that was acceptable and continued, looking over the clothes on the bed with a more assessing eye. ‘What are you guys doing?’

That made Beth grin.

‘Bowling! And dinner.’

Riley nodded, appraising the clothes again, and then after a moment, she picked up a rich blue tunic, and pointed out Beth’s slim-fitting grey jeans.

That made the shorter woman smile.

‘Thanks, Riley.’

After a moment of consideration, Beth stepped over to her shoe rack in the closet and picked up a pair of dark brown ankle boots, which made Riley nod in approval, before her own smile softened.

‘What are girlfriends for?’

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Mac stared at the contents of his closet and for one brief moment of insanity, considered going to Bozer (who was apparently very stylish) and asking for help.

He shook his head and dismissed that thought (that was _ridiculous_ , he was a grown man and could dress himself and it wasn’t as if he cared heaps about appearances and he cared even less about fashion, and besides, Beth had seen him in enough undignified situations – throwing up, in a hospital gown, badly injured and naked to boot – and if she was still willing to date him, still willing to let this _something_ between them grow, well that had to mean something, right? Then again, on the other hand, said undignified situations were a good reason to dress nicely in the first place…)

Shaking his head again, pulling himself out of his thoughts, he looked appraisingly over his wardrobe.

Eventually, he settled on a pair of tan chinos, a cream-coloured long-sleeved shirt and his chequered blue flannel that Penny and Bozer claimed brought out the blue in his eyes.

Then, with a little smile, he pulled on his favourite brown leather jacket.

_My grandfather always said that on a date, particularly a first date, a gentleman should dress as himself._

_However, he specified that one should dress as the best-looking version of himself appropriate for the location and activity of the date._

_I think I’ve nailed it, even if I say so myself._

* * *

Mac walked into the living room, to find Jack and Bozer sitting on the couch, doing a terrible job of looking nonchalant and casual.

(Bozer was actually whistling.)

_Obviously, neither of them is being subtle._

_And they’re supposed to be secret agents…_

_Honestly, it’s rather bizarre that they can pull it off so well in the field, but the moment you take them out of it, they become rather hopeless at this._

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

‘Alright, get it over with.’

Both Jack and Bozer made faces, looking rather put-out. Bozer dramatically clutched his heart.

‘Mac, bro, you wound me!’

‘Yeah, brother, just making assumptions about our intentions willy-nilly!’

Mac sighed again, shaking his head and raising an eyebrow.

‘I’m not wrong, though.’

Neither Jack nor Bozer had a retort to that, so simply got on with what they’d been intending to do all along.

Bozer looked Mac up and down and then pointed at his best friend.

‘Should’ve worn a suit, man. You look really good in a suit.’

Mac just shot his best friend a _look._

‘It doesn’t go with the grease under my nails. Besides, we’re going bowling and to that soul food place that does amazing chess pie. Neither of which a suit would be appropriate for.’

Bozer snorted.

‘You can pull off anything anywhere if you work it, bro. Walk around like you’ve got _all_ the confidence.’

Mac nodded slowly.

‘I…will keep that in the back of my mind, Boze. Thanks.’

Jack glanced at the time on his phone, smirking.

‘It’s only 5, brother. And it only takes 20 minutes to get to Beth and Riley’s.’ His smirk widened. ‘Someone’s eager.’

Mac rolled his eyes again.

_Never be early, but never be late._

_That’s what Grandfather always said._

_I’m pretty good at timing; don’t worry, I’ve worked it all out already._

_I’ll be there to pick her up at 6 on the dot._

‘I’ve got to go buy some flowers first.’

Bozer and Jack just exchanged a look, Jack a bit more disbelieving than Bozer.

(Bozer remembered a bunch of daises from his backyard for Penny, extravagant red roses for Nikki – he’d been deeply infatuated and quite young in many ways then – and Mac pacing around, muttering to himself and doing internet research on whether it was socially acceptable to buy a woman, whom you’d technically never met, flowers on a first date, or whether that was considered creepy, when he’d decided to try dating again and met Cindy on the internet.)

Ignoring their looks, Mac reached over and grabbed a few paperclips from the bowl on the coffee table, putting them in his pocket, and started walking towards the door.

Jack sprang up and followed his partner, putting a hand on Mac’s shoulder and whispering into his ear when they got to the door.

‘I reckon this is gonna be your last first date, brother, so you better make it a good one.’

A slow, soft, fond smile grew on Mac’s face, and he gave a little, hopeful sort of nod, and patted Jack’s shoulder in response.

The older man simply smiled and opened the door for him.

_I really, really, really want Jack to be right._

* * *

**RILEY AND BETH’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

A bunch of yellow roses and violets in hand, Mac rang the doorbell, and a moment later, Beth opened the door, a bright smile on her face.

‘Hi, Mac.’

He was pretty sure he was grinning like an idiot again, but he really didn’t care.

‘Hi, Beth.’ He held out the flowers. ‘You look beautiful.’

Her smile widened, cheeks flushing, as she accepted the bouquet.

‘Thanks, Mac. These do too. And you, of course!’ Her blush darkened and she looked a bit sheepish. ‘Err…well, you get what I mean.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not good at this.’

‘We can be bad at dating together?’ He paused for a moment and made a face. ‘That sounded better in my head.’

Beth giggled and shook her head affectionately, then gestured inside her home.

‘I’ll just put these in a vase and then we can go…’

He stepped into the entranceway as she headed to the kitchen to grab a vase, and Riley, sitting on the couch, just smirked knowingly at him and waggled her eyebrows, phone in hand.

Mac had the distinct feeling that Riley had heard every word of their conversation.

She might also have video footage.

_Beth and I are never going to hear the end of this._

_I just know it._

_That’s what friends are for, after all._

_Tomorrow might be a good time to remind Riley that I did not bet on her and Bozer getting together, unlike a certain someone, though…_

* * *

**BOWLING ALLEY**

**LA**

* * *

‘Well, that makes five times.’ Beth looked over at him, shaking her head with a smile, a touch of disbelief (just a touch - it was more the surprise of having just witnessed such an improbable feat with her own two eyes) on her face. ‘You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re an alien or are super-powered.’

A little smirk grew on Mac’s face.

‘I _could_ be.’

Beth gave a snort of laughter, raising an eyebrow at him.

‘An alien or a superhuman with the _exact same physiology_ as an ordinary human?’

He held up his hands in a gesture of defeat with a smile.

‘You’ve got me there.’

* * *

**SOUL FOOD RESTAURANT A BLOCK FROM THE BOWLING ALLEY**

**LA**

* * *

‘… _You_ blew something up.’

As the two of them shared a piece of pecan pie and a slice of chess pie (because two kinds of pie were better than one), Mac stared rather incredulously at the woman sitting across from him, who as far as he’d known, had been a complete goody-two-shoes at school, winning her nine science fairs _without_ breaking into her school after hours.

Beth looked a little sheepish.

‘Well, it was behind some blast shields in my dad’s workshop, and it was only a _small_ explosion…’

He smirked teasingly.

‘An explosion’s an explosion, no matter if it’s small or big.’

Beth shook her head fondly, taking another bite of chess pie, then after a moment of thinking and chewing, she narrowed her eyes at him, a teasing note in her voice.

‘Did your grandfather say that to some combination of you, the police and Mission City High after you burnt down the football stadium with a small nuclear meltdown?’

He could only nod a little sheepishly.

* * *

**RILEY AND BETH’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Hand-in-hand, they walked up to the front door of her and Riley’s home (because Mac’s grandfather always said that a gentleman escorts a lady to her door after a date, and also because both of them didn’t really want the evening to end, despite the impossibility of stopping time), Mac made a decision as they reached the door.

‘You know, my grandfather always said that a gentleman should kiss a lady goodnight after a date…but that one should never, ever kiss a lady on the lips on the first date.’ He was pretty sure his ears were on fire, but kept talking anyway. ‘I’m seriously considering disregarding that rule.’

Beth’s cheeks were very pink again, but she smiled up at him anyway, a curious mixture of sweetness and shyness and seductiveness and a little bit of teasing in that smile.

‘Well, since this lady would like that very much, perhaps he could be persuaded to your point of view…’

_Sorry, Grandfather._

_But you did teach me that the most important thing of all was to respect and abide by a lady’s wishes, so…_

He tucked two fingers under chin to tilt her face up, and then ducked his head a little and kissed her.

* * *

When they broke apart, Beth’s face was flushed and she looked a little shell-shocked, like the Earth had moved a little under her feet (he was pretty sure he did too, since he certainly felt like it).

That made a little rush of smugness flow through him.

She looked up at him and blinked twice before speaking.

‘You really _are_ good at almost everything.’ Then, her eyes widened and her cheeks grew redder. ‘That was _not_ supposed to be out loud…’

He couldn’t help it and gave a fond little chuckle, even as another, larger rush of smugness went through him, and leaned forward to drop a kiss on her forehead.

‘I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Though, everyone’s going to try and pry into our private lives…’

The next thing on his tongue was an apology, but Beth shook her head firmly and cut him off before he could get there.

‘Well, what are friends for?’ They shared a smile, then Beth reached out and hugged him, a gesture he returned immediately, tucking his head over her shoulder for a moment. ‘Good night, Mac.’

His smile widened.

‘Good night, Beth.’

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, and with a last wave goodbye, Mac walked back to his car and got in, in a very, very good mood.

He hummed some melody that he was pretty sure his grandfather had played on his gramophone more than a few times during his childhood as he drove off.

Something about the song that’d been playing the first time he’d danced with Mac’s grandmother.

* * *

Riley smirked at her roommate as Beth walked into the living room, then spoke, something teasing, and yet also serious, in her voice.

‘Good to see that you had a good night.’

Beth sighed.

‘Did you use the security cameras?’

There were many security cameras around their home that had been installed by Mac as part of his extremely thorough security upgrade, including one that provided an excellent view of the front door.

Riley shook her head firmly.

‘No. I, unlike _somebody_ , respect people’s private lives and have boundaries.’ Riley gestured to her friend’s face. ‘That grin just gives it away, Beth.’

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Jack and Bozer were, of course, sitting on the couch and waiting for him when he got home.

Still, that could not ruin Mac’s good mood.

At this stage, he was pretty sure it’d take a major natural disaster, a real threat of nuclear war, Murdoc and/or Nikki breaking out of prison, or The Organization’s latest nefarious plan, or something along those lines to put a dent in his mood.

But he rolled his eyes anyway.

‘Get it over with.’

Jack and Bozer simply shook their heads and smiled, something very soft and affectionate and simply happy in their eyes, on their faces, behind that teasing veneer.

‘Just real glad for you, brother. Real glad.’

‘Ditto, man, ditto.’

Then, Jack smirked at his partner and Bozer waggled his eyebrows, the former speaking.

‘Now, did you kiss her, lover boy?’

Mac shot his partner a _look_ and picked up a miniature beanbag that Bozer had made for a diorama for a movie (which had become a makeshift hacky-sack – Mac and Bozer were very keen on recycling/up-cycling) that was resting on the entryway table and lobbed it at his partner.

Jack, being Jack, neatly dodged it.

‘That’s for me to know and you to never find out, Jack.’

* * *

As Mac left the living room, Bozer leaned over and jogged Jack with his elbow, eyebrows waggling.

‘He _totally_ did.’

* * *

Mac just rolled his eyes.

_To be fair, they’re not wrong._

_But a gentleman never kisses and tells._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly and ridiculous and fluffy, yes, but hopefully enjoyable as well? Yes, I agree that bowling is probably considered a strange activity to do on a first date (bowling is fun, so I don’t see why that would be the case, but society is weird…), but hey, Bozer and Riley once hit rubber ducks into Mac and Bozer’s neighbour’s pool using golf clubs and the whole gang has had a hang-out at a Skeeball place with terrible pizza, despite all being over 25. Also, Mac (unintentionally - mostly) wooed Beth with a spaghetti-machine-spaghetti-machine. Bowling is not a weird date after all that.
> 
> There is definitely a meaning behind the yellow roses and the violets – it’s up to you to decide if Mac knows the language of flowers and/or looked it up (like yours truly) or whether the meaning is pure coincidence! I also adore the song Nancy Mulligan by Ed Sheeran, so I had to do the yellow roses! 
> 
> As always – please, please drop me a line if you’ve got a request! I’ve also got a Christmas fic set in this AU coming up – a series of 25 Christmas-themed ficlets, as an advent calendar/countdown to Christmas! (I’ve officially written the first four ficlets!) 
> 
> Next chapter: Freefall: When Viv Ho and Alex Lucas meet, sparks of more than one kind fly. Most stories of this kind end with a kiss. Theirs starts with one. ‘Viv is Thornton’s niece?’ ‘He gets under my skin. Disturbs my equilibrium.’


	11. Freefall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Viv Ho and Alex Lucas meet, sparks of more than one kind fly. Most stories of this kind end with a kiss. Theirs starts with one. 
> 
> ‘Viv is Thornton’s niece?’ 
> 
> ‘He gets under my skin. Disturbs my equilibrium.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-2.22, Bobby Pin. This is also this universe’s version of 2.03, Roulette Wheel + Wire, but it is very, very different. I know it’s Viv and Alex’s story, but just about everyone else appears and plays some kind of part in it too! Give it a chance?

**HOTEL ROOM**

**BELGRADE**

**SERBIA**

* * *

‘…We’re in with the Red Fist…’ Rowena cleaned their weapons as Nick updated Thornton, May, Carter and Alex, who were patched in back at the Phoenix (they were undercover as a married pair of ex-Spec Ops mercenaries, and had just been conditionally hired by the Red Fist to help them carry out their latest terror attack – the Red Fist had appeared on their radar three weeks ago, when they’d started stealing diamonds, instead of their usual MO of blowing people up). ‘…and something’s gonna go down in Azerbaijan. Something that’ll let them pay us, apparently.’

Nick and Rowena had obviously demanded to be paid in diamonds.

In $80 million worth of diamonds.

(They were going to steal a WMD and take out a rival terrorist organization for the Red Fist; it was a big job.)

(Well, they weren’t _actually_ going to do that, but that’s what they’d told them, anyway.)

* * *

**SWANKY NIGHTCLUB**

**BAKU**

**AZERBAIJAN**

* * *

May ducked into what had become her dressing room (she was undercover, and had been for the last two weeks, since Nick and Rowena had gotten that intel, as a singer in the favourite nightclub of a few of the Red Fist’s members with a soft spot for bad boys and a whole series of slinky dresses, and she had finally gotten them some good intel), and after checking that she was alone and doing a sweep for bugs, she pulled out an encrypted burner phone.

‘Karabakh Hotel and Casino. They’ve got diamonds in their vault. That’s the target.’

* * *

**NON-DESCRIPT HOTEL FULL OF EXPATS AND TOURISTS**

**DUBAI**

* * *

‘…Getting Carter into the Karabakh as a newly-hired tech expert’s all well and good, but May, Nick and Rowena need to keep their covers, and this is not a job for just the two of us.’ Alex finished solving his Rubik’s cube as he spoke, brow furrowing. ‘And what’s _my_ cover identity?’

Back at the Phoenix, Thornton inclined her head in acknowledgement and addressed the three-way split screen before her, one screen showing Nick and Rowena, one May, and one Carter and Alex.

‘I’m borrowing someone from Matty. She’ll rendezvous with you in Dubai tomorrow morning; Andi is forwarding your covers to you now, Alex. Carter, you start work at the Karabakh tomorrow…’

* * *

Thornton signed off, after walking with them on her tablet screen to the infirmary, as Jack and Mac had apparently just been extracted from Siberia, and despite that cold and almost uncaring exterior she presented to the world, they all knew that Thornton cared deeply about her agents.

Especially, they all knew, those particular agents.

(That also meant that they were treated to a moment of the Mac-and-Jack show, with a side of Doc.)

(‘…You really do have a frostbitten backside, Jack. _How_ …Jack, did you spend a large amount of time sitting on the floor of your snow cave?’ ‘Uh…yeah?’ ‘I _told_ him not to do that, Beth…’ ‘Hey, we did it last time, brother!’ ‘We were sitting _on a tarp_ last time!’)

After their boss had hung up, Nick half-smirked at Alex.

‘So, Flyboy, who’re you gonna be this time?’

Alex looked up from his tablet, also smirking.

‘Luke Arrington, arms dealer with money to burn.’ He paused for a moment, the smirk widening ever-so-slightly. ‘And Agent Ho is Sophia Chen, who may or may not be the daughter of a notorious Triad boss…and is definitely Luke Arrington’s girlfriend.’

* * *

**PHOENIX JET**

**(UNDERCOVER AS LUKE ARRINGTON’S JET)**

**PRIVATE AIRPORT**

**BAKU**

**AZERBAIJAN**

* * *

Alex grinned with a hint of a smirk at his temporary partner as she stepped out of the bathroom, a slinky, figure-hugging gold dress and matching high heels replacing the ripped jeans, tied-off flannel and awesome kicks that she’d shown up in, and wearing contacts instead of her tortoiseshell glasses.

Her killer eyeliner remained in place, however.

‘You clean up nice, Viv.’

(She had firmly insisted that he call her that, instead of Agent Ho or Vivian.)

Viv simply looked him over, taking in his smart black suit with dark shirt and tie, an eyebrow raised in a way that was oddly reminiscent of Alex’s boss for some reason, and then gave a smile that was a bit like a smirk.

‘You’ll pass. Just.’

* * *

**KARABAKH HOTEL AND CASINO**

**BAKU**

**AZERBAIJAN**

* * *

Viv opened the door, clothed in a red silk robe, greeting the summoned maintenance man.

‘Oh, thank God…umm…my boyfriend and I both thought that the other person brought the…um…oh, this is just embarrassing, uh…let me show you.’

Continuing to act flustered and embarrassed, she led the man into the bedroom of their suite, and gestured to the bed, to which an apparently-naked Alex was cuffed.

He waved as best as he could and gave a sheepish smirk.

‘Hey, you any good at picking locks?’

* * *

As the maintenance man unpicked the cuffs, Viv lifted the man’s key card, and then stepped towards the bathroom.

‘I’ll just get you some painkillers for your cramp, honey!’

Quickly, she cloned the key card, while Alex bought her some time by dramatically pretending that his cramp had gotten much, much worse.

As soon as she was done cloning the card, with a tab of paracetamol in hand, she stepped back into the bedroom and replaced the maintenance man’s key card, before he could even notice it was gone.

Viv passed Alex the painkillers, as he made a show of rubbing his wrists, then Viv escorted the maintenance man, still none the wiser, out to the door, tipping him generously.

Then, she made her way back into the bedroom and shot Alex a thumbs-up.

He jumped out of the bed (he was wearing pants) and grabbed his shirt, which had been flung over a nearby chair, putting it back on with a grin.

‘Honestly, I’m kind of surprised that worked.’

Viv raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing note in her voice.

‘Are you dissing my pick-pocketing skills? Or my key-card-cloning skills?’

Alex raised his hands with a smile.

‘Of course not!’ His expression became more serious. ‘I thought he might make a run for it…’

‘I think this sort of thing happens quite often here.’

Both of them made a face.

‘I could have gone without knowing that.’

Viv shot him a very dry look.

‘Well, if I have to live with that knowledge, you do too.’

* * *

Carter, deep in the offices of the hotel and casino, keeping his head down and pretending to be just another office drone, received a text message from May’s burner phone, written in a code that he’d long learned by heart.

**Double-cross. Buying WMD straight from seller w/ diamonds at Karabakh.**

Internally, he swore.

Externally, he worked for another three minutes, then headed off to the bathroom.

They were going to need to change their plan.

The original plan had been to let Red Fist steal the diamonds, and then take them down at the sale of the diamonds to Nick and Rowena.

With the WMD in play…well, Carter thought that the new plan would have to be ‘never mind the diamonds, take out the WMD sellers’.

* * *

In their hotel room on the 58th floor, Nick and Rowena prepared two sets of rappelling equipment, very grateful that their covers allowed them to have such things secreted away.

(They would _not_ have enjoyed tying together bedsheets or something to try and get down to the 50 th floor, where in a suite handily directly below theirs by 8 floors, the WMD sale was going to go down, once the diamonds were stolen, which was what Carter said was going down right that instant.)

As they set up by the windows and Nick raised his gun to smash one, he smirked at his partner-in-both-senses.

‘Remind you of Osaka?’

Rowena simply elegantly arched an eyebrow at him.

‘Let’s hope that this does _not_ go down like Osaka.’

* * *

‘Alex, Viv, there’s a guard outside the door. You’re gonna need a distraction.’

Taking out one guard wouldn’t be a problem for them, but with the 8 hostiles inside the room, with a WMD that they could presumably activate at any time, they couldn’t let him alert his buddies inside.

Alex gave a rather wry smirk.

‘Well, PDA makes people very uncomfortable…’

* * *

Viv preceded Alex out of the elevator, her fingers in his belt loops, one of his hands on her hip and the other cupping the back of her head, the two of them kissing as if their lives depended on it (which they kind of did).

She pulled him along the corridor, and when they’d gotten right next to the guard and the target room, he pushed her up against the wall, halfway between the target room’s door and the next one, the two of them seemingly utterly oblivious to the guard, who, as predicted, looked away, uncomfortable.

After what they judged was a sufficiently long period of time to gross out the guard, the two of them pulled away from each other a little, and for a moment, stared into each other’s eyes, breathing a little too hard for it just to be adrenaline and breathlessness from not stopping to breathe enough, due to selling their act.

With her in heels, they were eye-to-eye.

(Viv had always thought that she, like her aunt, was more stone and ice than anything near warm, but right now, she felt like _fire_.)

(It was a strange sensation, one that she didn’t think she’d ever really felt before.)

(Viv was not scared of many things. There were very, very few things that could shake her.)

(She felt shaken now. A little scared of the fire.)

(Alex had kissed plenty of women. Including quite a lot of women on the job.)

(But this was new, in a way that he couldn’t quite pin down.)

(New in some way that made him feel way out of his depth, something very, very unusual for him.)

Then, with just a couple of little head gestures, the two of them moved in sync, the guard in front of the door going down before he could even react.

As she crouched down to grab the guard’s guns (luckily, he had two, plus a knife), Alex smirked and spoke before he could think, a distinct undercurrent of _flirt_ in his tone.

(That was very inappropriate. She was his partner for his mission. He knew that, somewhere in his mind, and would realize it later, but he was still affected by what had occurred earlier.)

‘Was it just me, or did the Earth just move?’

Those last hints of _something_ smouldering in Viv’s eyes disappeared, something cool and hard shuttering over them instead, and she simply tossed him one of the guard’s guns and his key card, and then sheathed the knife in one of her specially-made garters and took up the other gun herself. She pressed an ear to the door, effectively ignoring him.

Alex followed suit, not really having any other choice.

(Besides, they _did_ have a job to do. That had to come first.)

When they heard the sound of glass shattering (Nick and Rowena), Alex shoved the key card into the lock and they burst into the room.

* * *

**PHOENIX JET**

**SOMEWHERE OVER THE ATLANTIC OCEAN**

**ON-ROUTE TO LA**

* * *

Carter, perched on the arm of May’s seat, grinned at Nick, Rowena, Alex and Viv.

‘So, we stopped the sale of a small nuclear bomb, and the bomb, the sellers, the Red Fist and the diamonds are all in the hands of the proper authorities. Can I get a round of applause for us?’

Carter started clapping very enthusiastically.

Nick, Alex and May joined in, in order of enthusiasm. Rowena and Viv exchanged a glance, a lot passing between them with just slight quirks of their eyebrows (a question – _are they always like this?_ Exasperated affection – _yes, they are always like this; you get used to it)._

Then, after the applause had finished, Carter turned to Viv, grin still in place, with a hint of a smirk.

‘So, we gonna be seeing more of you in future, Viv?’

That cool, shuttered look returned to her eyes, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

To them, spies and secret agents that they were, it looked like deliberate nonchalance.

‘If a mission calls for it.’

* * *

**MATTY’S TEAM’S HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

When Viv went to grab a cup of coffee, Lil and Sam just happened to be there, sipping at their own coffee.

It was Viv’s fellow analyst who spoke, something a little teasing in her voice that made Viv sigh internally.

(Viv was glad that Lil was no longer intimidated by just about everyone, but still…she could do without the teasing.)

(Especially as she was still trying to deal with what had happened at the Karabakh herself, still trying to process it.)

‘So, how was your mission with Alex?’ Lil’s mouth seemed to run away from her a bit, because she continued. ‘Did you get to ogle him in his suit? He looks really good in a suit.’ Sam raised an eyebrow at the analyst, and Viv did the same, trying to seem as unaffected and nonchalant and normal as possible, and doing very well. Lil shrugged in response, a little sheepishly, but she was grinning all the same. ‘What? Analysts have slow and boring days too! And we work with an improbable number of hot guys!’

Viv just shrugged.

‘He fills it out well, but I’ve seen better.’

Lil was fooled by her nonchalance and Viv braced herself mentally for Lil asking her all about the _better_ she’d seen next time they had a slow day (a traitorous voice in her head pointed out that while she might have seen better, better had never made her feel that _fire_ …Viv made it shut up before it could continue), but Sam definitely didn’t buy the act. (She was Samantha Cage, master interrogator and profiler, after all.)

Still, Sam did Viv a solid and pulled the topic away from Alex Lucas and his really well-fitting suit and that _smirk_ and his ridiculous Rubik’s cube.

‘We also work with an improbable number of hot girls.’ Sam gave a bit of a wry smirk. ‘Equal opportunity sexual harassment, right?’

* * *

**GAMES ROOM**

**NICK AND ROWENA’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

In the games room of Nick and Rowena’s spacious house, where the Edwards team typically hung out to decompress after missions, or doing their free time, Alex took a healthy swig of beer as all eyes turned to him, all with very similar, probing, worried sort of looks in them.

‘I hate you guys.’

There was no heat in it.

(He really meant the opposite.)

Nick gave a snort.

‘Hate you too, Flyboy.’

There was no heat in that either.

(He meant the opposite too.)

Alex sighed, then spoke, putting down his beer to play with his Rubik’s cube instead.

‘She’s…attractive.’

(That was an understatement, and that wasn’t all of it.)

(He knew that.)

(They _all_ knew that.)

Rowena, Nick, Carter and May all looked at him for another moment, before, mercifully, sensing that he didn’t want to talk about this in this way, not now, they changed tack, Nick drinking some of his own beer and shaking his head.

‘Flyboy, you really keep picking the wrong women, don’t you? First there was that drug lord’s daughter-‘

‘-I had no idea who her dad was!’

‘-then Doc, and now our boss’s niece.’

That actually shocked Alex enough that his hands, which had been turning his Rubik’s cube, stopped entirely.

(To be fair, Carter and May looked just as surprised.)

‘Viv is Thornton’s _niece_?’

Nick and Rowena both nodded, the latter inclining her head elegantly, a little bit of wry in her expression, the former giving a bit of a smirk and pointing at the blonde.

‘Yeah, Flyboy. Our scary boss’s niece.’

After a moment, Alex shrugged (he could see the resemblance now, now that he knew), and gave a smirk that he didn’t really feel, part of his brain still preoccupied going over everything that had happened, everything he’d felt, in that casino in Azerbaijan.

‘Well, I’ve always been a bit of a bad boy.’ Then, he paused for a moment, finishing solving his Rubik’s cube before he continued. ‘Can you guys keep what happened in Azerbaijan quiet, please?’ He paused again, swallowing before continuing. ‘I…I screwed up and I need to apologize.’

He lifted a shoulder, the implication that of course, Viv would _not_ appreciate word of exactly what had happened in that casino getting around, very clear.

His teammates, of course, nodded, because they were more than a team, they were family, and family always had each other’s backs.

(Good teams did too. That’s why they were family.)

Nick raised his beer to Alex in some kind of silent toast, while May grabbed the bag of chips resting on the table that they usually used to play poker and opened them, then passed the bag to Carter, who passed it to Alex. Rowena regarded him in her quiet, probing way for a moment, then gave a little nod, something in her eyes that told Alex she’d be keeping a careful eye out for him, which he very much appreciated.

Carter reached over and patted his shoulder.

‘What happens in Azerbaijan stays in Azerbaijan, man.’

* * *

**GAMES ROOM**

**NICK AND ROWENA’S RESIDENCE**

**(ROWENA’S [REDACTED] BIRTHDAY PARTY)**

* * *

Alex carefully studied the pool table and the arrangement and orientation of the balls before him, before making a carefully considered shot and, of course, sinking the desired ball.

His opponent Riley (he and Mac had already had yet another rematch earlier, and quite a bit of money had changed hands) pursed her lips, considering her own shot, and Alex took the opportunity to look around the room.

May and Carter were manning the built-in bar and (to use a phrase that Mac had used earlier to describe them that Alex was pretty sure the younger man had picked up from his grandfather) making eyes at each other. Sarah and Charlie were sitting at the bar and exchanging knowing looks.

Bozer, Lil, Rowena and Patricia were seated on an assortment of stools, watching the pool game. Bozer and Lil appeared to be working on another betting pool, if the latter’s frantic texting and the former’s whispering meant anything, while the two older women were chatting quietly over their glasses of wine.

Matty, Nick, Sam, Jack and Mac were playing a game of poker in the corner, Sam being greatly amused by people trying to bluff her (she was winning, though Mac was a close second, with Matty in third and Jack dead last), and Jack loudly protesting the presence of his partner’s Lady Luck, Beth, who was perched on the arm of the armchair that Mac was sitting in (‘You don’t even believe in luck, brother, and she can count cards and calculate odds almost as well as you can, that’s cheating!’).

Viv seemed to be watching the poker game, completely engrossed, but Alex knew better.

She was watching him, just like he’d been watching her, trying to get a chance to speak to her all night, to apologize, but she’d managed to evade him at every turn.

And he still wasn’t sure what he’d actually say.

(This woman really did make him feel out of his depth.)

(He wasn’t Mac. He was actually pretty suave. This wasn’t normal for him.)

(There was just something about her, he supposed.)

* * *

He wound up leaving a note, slipping it into her handbag.

He had no idea if she’d read it, or what she’d done with it after (burned it, maybe), but he felt a little better for at least having tried.

* * *

**BORROWED PHOENIX JET**

**SOMEWHERE OVER TENNESSEE**

**ON-ROUTE TO LA**

* * *

Why Matty thought it’d be a good idea to send just the two of them on a mission to Nashville, when Viv had staunchly refused to speak to him beyond expected greetings and work-related conversations since that mission to Azerbaijan, Alex had no idea.

Well, he did have an idea.

They had precisely the right skill sets (ability to fly a plane, right age and undercover skills to pull off being a young couple on their honeymoon, hacking skills and combat skills) for this mission, and of course, they’d pulled it off, but he’d thought that the whole _I think she kind of hates me_ thing would have been more of an issue.

(It wasn’t.)

(They were good enough professionals – especially Viv – to not let it get in the way of the mission. And they worked surprisingly well together. Very well together.)

(At least there’d been no kissing this time.)

(If it was anything like last time…Alex was not completely sure they’d manage to avoid another escalation.)

(Or a resolution, a voice in his head said, the same voice that agreed with what Carter said when he was convinced that Alex wasn’t listening – that voice that agreed that maybe the problem was mostly just some good old-fashioned UST.)

(Alex pushed that thought away firmly.)

Instead, he simply held out the can of soda he’d picked up from the little galley area of the jet to the woman staring into the distance.

Viv looked up at him, then at the soda, eyeing them both a little suspiciously for a moment, before she seemed to take it for what he’d intended it to be (a peace offering, a comfort, given what had gone down during their mission), and took it with a nod of thanks.

She popped open the can and took a sip, and a little hesitantly, Alex slipped into the seat beside her.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

She’s had no choice but to shoot the Organization-affiliated drug kingpin they’d been after through the eyes to save his life and most likely hers as well.

Viv lifted a shoulder and took another sip of her soda.

‘That wasn’t my first time.’

He looked over at her for a moment, something very understanding in his eyes, even as he shrugged.

‘It’s not something you ever get used to, as far as I know.’

Another sip of soda, but her voice was less guarded, more open, when she spoke again.

‘I hope not.’

Alex nodded in understanding, in agreement, and then held out his Rubik’s cube to her, with another shrug.

‘Keeping your hands busy helps.’

Viv raised an eyebrow, but reached out and took it anyway. Then, she looked up at him, and there was something a little softer and thankful in her eyes.

Then, she sipped her soda again, put it down, and turned her attention to the Rubik’s cube.

But she didn’t elegantly arch an eyebrow at him as if asking _why are you still sitting next to me?_ , implying that he should go away, so Alex counted that as a win.

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

The next time they saw each other again was at Mac and Bozer’s, at a games night involving some of the younger members of Matty’s team and the Phoenix (namely the two hosts, Riley, Beth, Alex, Sam, Viv and Lil – Carter and May had been invited, but had turned down the invitations, saying they had other plans – Alex was quite sure he’d soon stop feeling like beating his head against the wall; he was pretty sure they were _finally_ getting their act together).

Alex walked out through the open door onto the deck, where Sam and Viv were chatting, as Riley and Lil played _Mario Kart_ inside, Bozer cheering his girlfriend on from the couch, and Mac and Beth commandeered the kitchen to make liquid nitrogen ice-cream.

‘Evening, ladies.’ He smiled at the two of them, then turned to Viv and gestured inside, at the TV screen displaying Rainbow Road. ‘Do you want to race? I think I owe you a rematch, after Nashville.’

* * *

There was just enough flirt in his voice (there was so little of it, part of her wondered if he was even aware of it at all – he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t inconsiderate either, she knew that – he’d made sure that word of what had happened in Azerbaijan hadn’t gotten out, and he’d looked out for her after Nashville) to set something off in Viv.

A spark of that fire again, and also that accompanying feeling of being a little shaken, a little scared. Nervous, maybe.

She wanted him to go away.

She didn’t want him to go away.

She wanted to kick his ass in _Mario Kart._ And drag him to the arcade and kick his ass even more in _DDR_ and then go grab burgers.

Like a date.

She also really wanted to kiss him again, like in the Karabakh.

(Except for real this time, and without having to stop to prevent a small nuclear bomb from being sold and/or being set off.)

Viv was lost. Confused.

She needed time, needed space.

But she didn’t want to ask for it.

(She didn’t want to be that open, that vulnerable. Didn’t want to acknowledge how big, how different this felt.)

(Being closed-off and keeping your walls up ran in the family.)

(Even if Viv was trying to walk a different path.)

So, instead, she grabbed Sam’s collar and kissed her.

(She wasn’t thinking. Not at all.)

A moment later, senses returning, Viv let go of Sam.

Alex had stepped away, and his back was to them now, but when he reached the door, he turned back for a second, just a second, and locked eyes with her, and she got the sense that maybe, just maybe, he sort of understood what she wanted, even if she hadn’t said it.

(There really was something about this guy.)

Sam, to her credit, seemed rather unfazed by what had just happened, though she looked Viv square in the eye, blue eyes piercing and all-knowing like they so often were.

‘You’re not trying to get him to give up by convincing him we’re dating …and he wouldn’t buy it anyway.’ She paused. ‘You know that. So why’d you do that?’

Viv drained the rest of her drink.

‘I…I don’t know.’ Her voice was soft and more open, since she was talking to the woman who’d become, over the last few months, her best friend. (They were quite alike, both having plenty of sass, both being badass-yet-analytical, and a little closed-off, preferring to keep their cards close to their chests.) ‘I’m so sorry, Sam, I shouldn’t have-‘

‘It’s alright.’ A wry smirk crossed the blonde’s face for a moment. ‘Not the first time I’ve kissed a friend to get a man to leave us alone.’ Her expression got a little more wry. ‘Though, next time, a little more warning would be appreciated.’

Viv nodded and gave a wan smile, locking eyes with Sam for a moment to communicate her thanks, then she spoke again, looking down, her voice soft and confessional.

‘He gets under my skin. Disturbs my equilibrium.’

Viv had dated a fair few men, but she’d always felt in control, even if she hadn’t been the one to make the first move (usually she was, but if she hadn’t, she’d always seen it coming), but there was something about Alex Lucas that made her feel…not out-of-control, per se, but like she was on a rollercoaster (ultimately knowing that she wasn’t in danger, even if her lizard brain couldn’t appreciate that, with the swoops and the upside-down loops and sudden drops, and knowing that she could get off if she wanted to…but not really wanting to).

Sam studied her for a moment.

‘In a good way or a bad way?’

There was silence for a moment.

‘I don’t know.’

Sam was a master interrogator. A master of psychology, in a very applied sense.

Sometimes, she knew things that even the person thinking them or feeling them didn’t know.

She was quite sure that it was in the good way, even if Viv wasn’t quite aware of it (or, more likely, wasn’t willing to admit it, not even to herself, not yet).

Still, the other woman was the closest thing that Sam had to a best friend, and best friends were always there for each other, so…

‘Want another drink?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s going to be a sequel to this…it may or may not involve bad guys and truth serum and a daring rescue conducted with a masterstroke by Mac. 
> 
> This chapter (and Alex and Viv’s relationship) is somewhat inspired by _NCIS_ ’s Tiva and the classic episode Under Covers. 
> 
> As always – drop me a line if you’ve got a request! (The next chapter was written for two requests!) 
> 
> Next chapter: Guardian Angels, for didthatreallyhappen and a Guest. When Mac blows his cover to save a life on a mission, he winds up captured and poisoned to boot. Luckily for him, Jack and the team come to his rescue, and he has an excellent doctor…who is also an excellent girlfriend.


	12. Guardian Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For didthatreallyhappen and a Guest.
> 
> When Mac blows his cover to save a life on a mission, he winds up captured and poisoned to boot. Luckily for him, Jack and his team come to his rescue, and he also has an excellent doctor…who is also an excellent girlfriend.

**THE BLACK WIDOW’S HEADQUARTERS**

**(LA’S QUEEN OF MONEY-LAUNDERING)**

**(NOT THE AVENGER)**

**(THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN COOLER)**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Mac glanced at the extremely beautiful, seemingly ageless, pale-skinned, dark-haired woman with long, red-painted fingernails and matching lipstick, as she handed him a gun, a predatory smile on her face and a just-as-predatory look in her eyes, some level of a question, a challenge, in the slight quirk of her eyebrow.

The Black Widow was the newly-crowned (metaphorically-speaking) queen of money-laundering in LA. She took jobs for terrorists and underworld figures alike, and after she’d been pivotal to a terror attack that had almost been pulled off in Chicago (but hadn’t, thanks to several Phoenix agents), they’d set their sights firmly on her.

She had recently decided to expand into forgery, which was something that they’d been able to exploit.

Mac had been undercover for the last two days as a talented young engineer with a rather loose sense of morality and a desire to make more-than-some money.

Somebody who could build sophisticated equipment for a forgery operation.

He’d made quite a lot of headway, getting evidence for the takedown of the Black Widow, and for the takedown of many of her associates too.

It was all going well.

And of course, that wasn’t going to last.

Bound to a chair in front of Mac was a young man (one of a whole host who worked for the Black Widow, many of whom were very enamoured with their stunningly beautiful boss), whom the Black Widow suspected of spying on her, stealing information from her.

Suspected of doing what Mac had been doing.

Mac knew exactly what this was.

It wasn’t his first time at the rodeo.

He knew this was a test.

A test of loyalty.

This man wasn’t innocent, even if he was innocent of the charges currently levelled at him.

But Mac wasn’t a killer.

(He hated killing. Avoided it whenever possible. Was kept up at night if he did have to.)

He raised the gun, pointing it at the man’s head.

Then, moving as quickly as he could, he discharged the magazine into his left hand, and whirled around to whack the Black Widow’s two bodyguards, who were standing behind him, hitting one with the magazine and one with the butt of the gun.

* * *

**PHOENIX VAN**

**NEAR THE BLACK WIDOW’S HEADQUARTERS**

**(BUT NOT TOO NEAR)**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Jack swore as they lost audio and visual from the special button on Mac’s shirt.

It transmitted only intermittently; they’d found there was some pretty serious jamming equipment in the woman’s HQ, but Mac, being Mac, had managed to find just about every spot in that building that the jamming equipment _didn’t_ cover (there were quite a few, fortunately), and also managed to generally position himself strategically in those locations.

He’d been standing in one…until he’d been pretty much forced to step forward towards the Black Widow, who’d just pulled out a gun.

And that was when they’d lost the signal.

Jack exchanged a glance with Riley, who was sitting beside him, and then Thornton on Riley’s laptop screen, in the war room back at the Phoenix (Bozer was in the lab, making a prosthesis for May – the Edwards team had an urgent mission, wheels up in four hours, so he was on a deadline).

The worry on both women’s faces was clear to Jack.

Just as his own worry was written plainly across his face for all to see.

Thornton levelled a deadly stare at him.

‘Gonzales and his team can be there in 15 minutes. _Do not_ go rushing in until they get there, Jack. That’s an order. There’s at least 20 armed hostiles in that building.’

Jack, to put it mildly, did not look happy at that order, but simply clambered into the driver’s seat and started the ignition.

Riley, meanwhile, began typing frantically on her laptop.

‘Getting visual in her HQ...’ Her nails clacked on her keyboard. ‘Come on, come on, there’s got to be a way…’

* * *

**THE BLACK WIDOW’S HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…Mac’s been poisoned. Black widow venom. What do we do, Beth?’

Riley spoke into her phone, which was on video call and speaker mode, as they hurried back to the van, and after she’d finished speaking, she held the phone up so that the doctor could see Mac, who was walking as best as he could (he was definitely in pain, as much as he tried to push through it, seemed to be having difficulty moving his muscles, and was sweating profusely), supported by Jack, who was looking grim, angry and worried, all at once.

Beth examined Mac for a moment as they kept walking, then addressed him.

‘General muscle pain and rigidity, and nausea?’

Mac nodded, the gesture definitely weak.

Deep concern and worry flickered across her face for a moment, before her caring, professional look returned, and she addressed Riley.

‘How sure are you that that’s it? His symptoms match up, and it’s certainly _appropriate_ , but there’s a lot of poisons that cause this set of symptoms…’

Riley glanced back at Jack for a moment as they reached the van and the older man helped his partner in, remembering that look in his eyes when they and Gonzales’ team (who were cleaning up and transporting the Black Widow and all her henchmen back to the Phoenix) had located Mac, remembering how, when Mac had explained in a single word (‘Poison.’) what had been done to him, Jack had stalked out of the room, pulled out his gun, and with _that_ look in his eyes and _that_ tone in his voice, held a gun to the Black Widow’s head and demanded to know the identity of the poison.

She turned back to Beth.

‘Very sure.’

Beth nodded, understanding in her eyes, then spoke.

‘Get him back here. I’ll go down to Ritchie’s lab to get the antidote. What’s your ETA?’

By now, they were all seated in the van, and Jack turned the key in the ignition, visible relief flooding through him at Beth’s words, relief that Riley shared.

‘Fifteen minutes, Doc.’ There was a pause. ‘And you keep that stuff on hand?’

Jack sounded surprised.

Relieved, but definitely surprised.

Something wry, the product of that determination to find humour and light in the darkness that they all shared, appeared on Beth’s face.

She and Ritchie had compiled a list of moderately common and accessible toxins, and their antidotes, and made sure to keep the antidotes on hand.

(She had an unlimited infirmary budget. Might as well put it to good use.)

‘An average of 1.42 Phoenix agents suffer non-accidental poisoning every month. It’s important to be prepared.’

* * *

**INFIRMARY**

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

* * *

As soon as Mac, still supported by Jack, walked into the infirmary, Beth ushered the two of them into a room that she’d prepared, and Jack helped his partner to sit on the bed.

Beth, meanwhile, picked up a hospital gown, neatly folded, and then shot the blonde a firm look.

‘Let’s get you into this, and then we’ll get the antidote into you.’

‘And that’s my cue, I ain’t got any interest in seeing your scrawny butt, man.’

Jack reached out and clasped his partner’s shoulder for a moment, then left the room.

Meanwhile, Mac, despite his situation (at the moment, he was enduring a whole series of particularly painful stomach cramps, and he also felt like he might throw up), made a face, but Beth simply shot him a firmer look.

‘You’ll be more comfortable in this.’

He supposed she had a point.

He hated hospital gowns, but she had a point. A very good point, honestly.

His clothes were damp and sticky with sweat, clinging and clammy and all-round uncomfortable.

He sighed and started working on the buttons of his shirt, but found that his hands, especially his fingers, were stiff and rigid, and fumbled with the buttons instead of undoing them easily as usual.

‘Let me do that, Mac.’ Beth put the hospital gown down on his bed and started undoing the buttons for him, fingers nimble and efficient. He let his hands fall back to his sides, with no small amount of frustration. Beth glanced up at him, something soft and sympathetic in her eyes, and then a wry look crossed her face. ‘You know, perhaps Bozer should cast the Black Widow as the villain in his next James Bond-esque movie. I mean, the Black Widow using black widow venom? That’s cheesy-cliché-movie-villain-worthy, right?’

That brought a little smile to his face.

* * *

A little while later, Mac was feeling very wretched, despite the administration of the antidote, and throwing up for the third time into a sick bag held by Beth.

(This, he thought, was extremely undignified.)

(The first time, he’d almost thrown up _on_ her, so he supposed this _was_ an improvement.)

(Not _much_ of an improvement, but an improvement nonetheless.)

Jack was sitting in a chair on the other side of his bed, seemingly nonchalantly playing _Candy Crush,_ but he wasn’t fooling anybody.

(Riley and Bozer – who’d finished May’s disguise with a couple of hours to spare - were assisting Thornton with debrief and handling oversight – Riley was doing her usual computer magic, while Bozer combed through the recordings, both audio and visual, from Mac’s wire for the evidence they needed – to help keep them off Mac and Jack’s backs.)

In between retches, Mac looked up at the doctor and gestured to the bag.

‘I can hold that, you don’t have to-‘

Beth simply shot him another one of her firm looks.

‘Mac, you’re experiencing severe muscle rigidity in your hands that has caused temporary paralysis. You can’t.’ Then, her expression softened and a wry little smile appeared on her face. ‘And besides, while I don’t exactly _enjoy_ this part of the job, it _is_ part of the job.’

Jack gave a wry little smirk, doing his best, as always, to lighten the mood.

‘And that’s why they pay her the big bucks, brother.’

He really should have made some kind of snappy, witty retort, contributed to that banter that he was quite sure was at least partially responsible for keeping them remarkably mentally healthy, considering what they’d experienced and what they saw and did on a regular basis, but unfortunately, the only reply Mac could manage was to retch into the bag again.

* * *

Another little while later, thanks to the antidote, Mac was starting to feel better (he had stopped throwing up, and while he was nauseous and still very sore all over, the profuse sweating had stopped too and his hands were now more willing to cooperate with his brain).

While Beth stepped out of the room to check on another agent who was recovering from a nasty bout of dehydration and sunburn after a mission to the Western Sahara (poor Agent Connors had been in the infirmary for the last 36 hours, but was now almost-recovered), Jack decided to take the opportunity to tease his partner.

(Mostly in the name of cheering him up in some way, which even Jack knew would help his recovery.)

(Mostly.)

(What? Jack enjoyed teasing his partner, lightly and affectionately, of course, never maliciously. It was fun!)

The older man put down his phone, and smirked at Mac, who was obediently sipping at a bottle of lemon-lime Gatorade, finally able to hold it, thanks to starting to get control over his hands again.

‘Alright, brother, what’s your secret?’

Mac raised an eyebrow at his partner and took another sip of Gatorade, something exasperated and long-suffering with an undercurrent of fondness in his voice when he spoke.

‘ _What_ secret, Jack?’

Jack gave a snort and shook his head, as if asking, _ain’t it obvious?_

‘Come on, man, you practically threw up on her, she has to see your scrawny butt on a regular basis as part of her job…how’d you get her to be your girl and put up with your scrawny butt in her free time, man?’

Mac took another sip of Gatorade, then smirked right back at Jack.

‘Well, she’s also had to look at _your_ butt a couple of times, and that’s a traumatic process, so…’

As Mac was speaking, Beth opened the door and re-entered the room, and after she’d quickly checked over the couple of monitors beside Mac’s bed, she raised her brows at the two men, expression wry.

‘For the record, I’ve seen a lot of backsides. There’s nothing traumatizing about anybody’s.’

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Finally back in his own clothes (chequered pyjama pants and an old MIT T-shirt), in his own home, and feeling much better (he still felt sore all over and weak and a bit nauseous, but he was definitely very much on the mend), Mac picked his laptop up off the desk and then flopped onto his bed, pulling up the collapsible, hidden laptop table he’d installed in the bed frame ages ago, and put his laptop on it.

He shifted into an even comfier position and pulled up his Netflix account and navigated to the documentary on Hedy Lamarr’s life and work that was the next thing in his and Beth’s Netflix queue.

At that moment, his girlfriend, also in pyjamas (purple flannel pants and a science joke T-shirt – this one had two atoms- or, more accurately, an atom and a cation - having a conversation on it – ‘I think I’ve lost an electron!’ – ‘Are you sure?’ – ‘Yeah, I’m positive!’), stepped back into his bedroom, a mug, a Thermos and a packet of saltine crackers in hand. She deposited the crackers on his bedside table, and then opened the Thermos, sending the smell of ginger through the air, and poured some of the ginger tea into the mug, then handed it to him, a very expectant look on her face.

Mac just smiled and took a sip of the tea, scooting over on his bed to make more room for her. She sat down beside him, and he reached over and slipped his free arm around her, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

‘Thanks, Beth.’

She just smiled up at him, soft and fond, then reached over to press play on the documentary, shifted so that his arm was no longer around her and his free hand rested in her lap, before snuggling closer into his side and starting to massage his hand (which, like the other one, was rather sore due to the whole muscle-rigidity-causing-temporary-paralysis thing).

* * *

As the end credits began, she looked up at him again.

‘Are you feeling better?’

His smile widened.

‘Much, much better.’

Oxytocin worked wonders, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, all the stuff about Jack’s backside (and Mac’s, as a result) is inspired by 2.03, Roulette Wheel + Wire. didthatreallyhappen, and Guest, I hope that hit the spot! (Guest – I think you may have wanted more girlfriend!Beth and less Doc!Beth, but it was hard to achieve that while keeping her in-character and keeping the dynamic between her and Mac realistic and appropriate for their situation; this was really the best I could do, hope you liked it anyway!)
> 
> Please do drop me a line if you’ve got a request! 
> 
> Next chapter: Two Best Friends. Jack and Bozer worry about Mac. There’s nothing new or odd about that. They are his two best friends, after all, and even Mac doesn’t point out that technically, one can’t have two. ‘I mean, if Mac’s Luke, then I’m totally Han, and you’re Obi-Wan.’


	13. Two Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bozer worry about Mac. There’s nothing new or odd about that. They are his two best friends, after all, and even Mac doesn’t point out that technically, one can’t have two. ‘I mean, if Mac’s Luke, then I’m totally Han, and you’re Obi-Wan.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between 2.01, The Falling, and 2.02, Knitting Needle, and is part-Jack/Bozer friendship, part-character study about their relationships with Mac and each other.

Bozer slowly padded out of his bedroom and into the living room (he still wasn’t moving all that well, having been stabbed in the abdomen less than two weeks ago and all), taking a seat, again slowly, core muscles protesting, beside Jack on the couch.

The older man was wearing his Dallas Cowboys snuggie and staring at Mac’s closed bedroom door.

They sat there in silence for a moment, both of them staring at the same spot, then Bozer broke the silence, voice quiet.

‘Finally get him to go back to sleep?’ Jack glanced over at Bozer, a bit of surprise on his face, and Bozer gave a half-shrug. ‘I woke up a while ago, heard you two talking…’ Jack’s brow furrowed a little in a question, a question Bozer already knew the identity of, and so, he kept speaking. ‘You’re pretty wise, Jack, despite appearances…’ Jack managed an affronted look. ‘…figured my BFF could do with some Jack-wisdom.’

Jack stared at the younger man for a moment, then reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, voice a little hoarse with emotion.

‘You’re a great best friend, Bozer.’

He really was.

Jack had worried a little, when he and Mac had first returned from the Sandbox, when he’d first met Bozer, that things might get a little dicey. You know, changing dynamics, jealousy, potential clashes. All the issues that came with having _two_ best friends, two best friends whom Mac shared very close bonds with, for different (yet also somewhat the same) reasons (growing up together and watching each other’s backs or experiencing violence and fire and fury and near-death and all the other horrors of war together and watching each other’s backs).

Those fears had never eventuated.

Bozer had welcomed Jack into his life with almost as much enthusiasm as he’d welcomed Mac home, and somehow, the three of them had settled into a dynamic that worked.

Mac had two best friends (two brothers, in a way).

Similar in some ways, different in others.

(Fulfilling similar, but also different, roles in his life.)

(Maybe Jack was more the guy who brought a bit of home into the field, reminded his partner of it, while Bozer was the guy who made home a _home._ )

Nobody, not even Mac, who could be rather pedantic about things like this, made a fuss about the fact that _technically_ , one couldn’t have two best friends.

(That, Jack thought, was false anyway, since Mac had proven that one very much could have two best friends.)

The younger man smiled up at him, a soft smile.

‘So are you, man, so are you.’ Then, the smile widened a little and Bozer pointed at him. ‘Well, great best-friend-slash-surrogate-father-figure, of course. I mean, if Mac’s Luke, then I’m totally Han, and you’re Obi-Wan.’

Jack snorted and made a face.

‘Keep dreaming, Boze. Keep dreaming.’

Bozer looked very offended.

‘Hey, I could totally make the Kessel run in 12 parsecs! Have you _seen_ my _Mario Kart_ skills?’

Jack snorted again.

‘I saw Riley kick your ass. For like the _fiftieth_ time.’

Bozer made a _humph_ sound, and the two of them lapsed back into silence, before Bozer broke it again.

‘You made sure he went to sleep, right? ‘Cause it’d be totally Mac to climb out of his window and go for a run, despite it being 4 am and all…’

Jack nodded, a rather long-suffering and wry expression on his face that showed he completely agreed with Bozer’s assessment.

‘He promised he’d wait until dawn, and that he wouldn’t climb out of the window.’

Bozer sighed.

‘Probably the best we can hope for.’ His expression grew soft and fond and exasperated and long-suffering, all at once, as he stared back into the past. ‘You know, I always thought Mac would outgrow the whole getting-himself-into-trouble-as-much-as-he-gets-himself-out-of-it thing…now I’m starting to think that we’ll be eighty and he’ll still be like this.’

Jack snorted yet again.

‘Yeah, sounds about right, Boze.’

He returned to staring at Mac’s door, which Bozer was quite sure was not healthy for Jack (he’d been sleeping on their couch and eating all their hot sauce – Bozer had thought that Jack would be put off it for life after their Truth-or-Dare games, but apparently it took more than that to put Jack Dalton off his hot sauce - and Honey-Nut Cheerios), and wasn’t doing anything for Mac either, so Bozer heaved himself off the couch and walked over to the kitchen, and started pulling out the ingredients for his super-special, top-secret hot chocolate.

Jack, too, got up off the couch and made his way into the kitchen, still wearing his snuggie.

(For a gag gift from Mac, it had turned out to be extremely useful.)

‘Any chance of making that Irish, man? Or Russian?’

His tone was mostly-joking.

Bozer looked extremely affronted.

‘Hey, these are works of art, man! You don’t just go dumping liquor in them!’ Bozer pointed at Jack with his wooden spoon. ‘And it’s _way_ too early to be drinking, Jack.’

Jack smirked wryly.

‘Or a little too late.’ Bozer raised an eyebrow, as Jack shook his head, lost in a memory, and smiled. ‘I ever tell you about the bar, Slappy’s, but I called it Sloppy’s, for reasons that will become clear in a sec, that I went to all the time in college?’ Bozer shook his head, so Jack continued. ‘Well, it had the best beer and wings in a fifteen mile radius, and by best, I mean cheapest, so of course, being a broke college student and all…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay? Nay? The Jack/Mac/Bozer dynamic is an interesting one to write about; hopefully I’ve done it some justice! 
> 
> Next chapter: Tandem Skydiving. _‘We’ll always have Mogadishu_ really doesn’t have much of a ring to it.’ Baku. Nashville. Mogadishu. Alex and Viv’s relationship finally moves forward. Bad guys, truth serum and cows (that’s Mac’s fault) are involved.


	14. Tandem Skydiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘We’ll always have Mogadishu_ really doesn’t have much of a ring to it.’ Baku. Nashville. Mogadishu. Alex and Viv’s relationship finally moves forward. Bad guys, truth serum and cows (that’s Mac’s fault) are involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last exam was yesterday, and thus, I have now (well, assuming I passed everything, which should be a very safe assumption) finished my undergraduate degree! (That makes me more officially educationally-qualified than Mac, who is possibly the world’s most unexpected college drop-out…) I’m now starting a three-month summer break, and I have a new story or two planned and in the works, so stay tuned!

**KARABAKH HOTEL AND CASINO**

**BAKU**

**AZERBAIJAN**

* * *

Alex, leaning casually on the bar, finished the last of his martini (unlike Mac, he preferred his shaken, not stirred), and set the glass down carefully on the bar, before striding over towards his dark-haired, slinky-dress-clad partner, who was playing poker with a motley collection of men, including a Russian oligarch and a Texan who’d made his money in jerky, of all things.

Making sure to skirt into her line of sight, so that she wouldn’t be shocked by his appearance, he approached and placed a hand on the small of her back, smirking.

‘I can’t wait any longer to steal you away, honey…’ He turned to the table at large. ‘Apologies, gentlemen…’

A few of the men gave expressions along the lines of _well, I can’t blame you,_ or _if she were my girlfriend, I’d have cut in at least half an hour earlier._

The Texan who’d made his money in jerky glanced between the two agents.

‘How come you didn’t play with your girl, buddy?’

Viv and Alex exchanged a glance, slow smirks growing on their faces.

Viv addressed the Texan, and gestured at her impressive pile of chips.

‘Oh, I play to win.’

‘And so do I.’ He gestured to Viv’s chips. ‘So we’ve got a rule; no playing on the same table, to maintain domestic peace and harmony.’

Viv’s expression turned more wry.

‘In other words, to prevent him from having to sleep on the couch.’

The Texan looked her up and down, leering in a way that Alex didn’t like (it definitely crossed the line to disrespectful – an appreciative glance or look was one thing, this was definitely another), not that he could really show it, since he _wasn’t_ Alex, not right now.

(Luke Arrington was a bit of a show-off. Liked to flash his cash, and his fancy car and his private jet…and his very hot girlfriend.)

‘Now _that’s_ a punishment, buddy.’

There were nods of agreement and smirks around the table.

Since his hand was still on her back, Alex could feel the slight tension in his (temporary) partner, just a hint of it, in the muscles of her lower back.

(He was doubtful that anyone, even a professional in their field, would be able to see it.)

Clearly, she wasn’t enjoying this ‘conversation’ with the guys she’d been playing poker with (he _really_ didn’t blame her – it did _not_ help that they were all old enough to be her father), and since they had no reason to keep it going, she started pushing forwards with their exit.

Viv picked up his wrist and glanced at the time on his watch, then shook her head at him, dropping his hand and drumming her fingers lightly on his chest, a seductive smirk on her face.

‘I promised you’d be rewarded, very, very generously, if you let me play until 9…’

Alex smirked back.

‘We’re in a casino; I thought I’d take a gamble. See if I can convince you to give me my reward another way…’

He leaned over, brushing a lock of her hair away so that he could whisper in her ear.

‘Positive ID on 8 Red Fist members, scoping out security. It’s happening.’

That seductive smirk on her face only widened a little as he spoke, and she raised an eyebrow, arching it elegantly, and when he pulled his head away, she shook her head at him, making a _tut-tut_ sound.

‘You _are_ a bad boy.’ Then, she turned to the poker table at large. ‘It was a pleasure playing with you all, gentlemen.’ She scooped up her chips. ‘But I’m retiring for the night. Excuse me, please.’

And with that, her chips in a rack in one hand, she grabbed Alex’s hand (for a moment, he thought she might grab him by the tie, but that would probably have been laying it on far too thick) with her other one, and then whisked him out of the room.

* * *

**CARNIVAL**

**NASHVILLE**

* * *

With a grin, Alex stepped behind his (temporary – again) partner, who was giggling (It was very convincing, but it didn’t sound real to him…since when had he been able to tell if this woman – talented undercover operative she was – was faking laughter? There were precious few times he’d heard her laugh for real…), and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, putting his hands over hers on the sideshow rifle she was using to play a game that involved shooting at a series of brightly-coloured duck-shaped targets.

‘Here, honey, let me help you…’

(Viv did _not_ need help shooting anything. She definitely didn’t need help with a carnival game, even though Alex knew it probably was slightly rigged. Viv was actually a better shot than him, though he was better hand-to-hand, with his superior strength.)

(But Alana Marks, nee Lee, definitely needed help if she was going to hit anything, and who better to help her out than her Air Force fighter pilot husband of four days?)

She giggled again, leaning back a little into him.

‘You’re Air Force, hardly a sniper!’

His grin became a little more like a smirk, as the next shot hit the target about an inch off the bulls-eye.

(Yeah, this game was definitely rigged.)

‘Still military, honey.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And don’t need to be a sniper for this!’

* * *

(He won her a teddy bear.)

(A hipster teddy bear.)

(Complete with a moustache and a man-bun and tortoiseshell glasses, like hers.)

(She shook her head and grinned and laughed – for real, he was quite sure – when he selected that toy and handed it over to her.)

(He told himself that it was all just for their cover, playing the besotted newlywed act.)

(She told herself that too.)

* * *

**SUV**

**MOGADISHU**

**SOMALIA**

* * *

Alex was really beginning to think that somebody was either playing matchmaker, or trying to force them to resolve their _something._

(Which, he admitted, may or may not be the same thing.)

Unfortunately, the two main suspects (the only ones who could really pull this off) were Matty and Thornton.

Both were pretty disturbing possibilities, to say the least.

Viv, on the other hand, was more inclined to think that their being partnered up again wasn’t down to any of that (it was unprofessional), but more down to the fact that they worked extremely well together.

(Maybe, just maybe, that was sort-of, kind-of, a-little-bit, ever-so-slightly the same thing.)

This time, it was Thornton who’d borrowed her niece from Matty. The Edwards team plus Viv had been dispatched to take out the leader of a terrorist cell on Interpol’s (and the Phoenix’s) most-wanted list, the Ten of Spades (he’d finally resurfaced again, as he had from time to time since the Invasion of Iraq).

Rowena was to take the shot from a distance. Nick was her back-up. May was working undercover, while Carter watched their backs from the jet.

They were setting a trap for the man.

Drawing him out, getting him into position, then taking him out.

Every good trap needed bait.

And that was where Viv and Alex came in.

(They were following the Ten of Spades’ men around, just conspicuously enough to catch his attention, but not conspicuously enough to raise his suspicions that it was a trap, or to get themselves blown up instantly.)

Viv shot Alex a wry look as they turned down a bumpy back street.

‘Not quite as glamourous or charming as our last couple of outings, is it?’

He just nodded, a matching wry look appearing on his face.

‘ _We’ll always have Mogadishu_ really doesn’t have much of a ring to it.’

* * *

**THREE HOURS LATER**

* * *

The last thing that Alex thought as he blacked out was Murphy’s law: essentially, everything that can go wrong, will.

* * *

**NAIROBI**

**KENYA**

* * *

Jack and Mac had barely finished taking out the last of the bad guys and retrieving the stolen Cobalt-60 (which these bad guys had wanted to use to make a salted bomb, but wouldn’t be now, thanks to them), when they got a phone call.

(On Mac’s phone, since Jack’s phone had been commandeered again. Jack knew Mac would buy him a new one – well, he would if the Phoenix wouldn’t replace it, which it had every other time Mac had ‘borrowed’ it to save the world etc. – but he’d definitely be ribbing his partner for it.)

‘Mac, Jack, well done.’ Something very worried flickered across Thornton’s face for a moment, which made Mac and Jack exchange a concerned glance of their own, before her usual calm and cold expression returned. ‘I have to divert you to Mogadishu; we have a situation there. The Edwards team and Viv went in to take out the Ten of Spades, but…’ That flicker returned. ‘…he’s got Viv and Alex instead.’

Mac and Jack exchanged another glance, full of worry, then both of their gazes hardened a little. Steeled themselves.

Jack gave a little nod.

‘On our way, Patty.’ He paused for a moment. ‘We’ll get them back safe.’

For a moment, Jack almost said _her,_ but he stopped himself just in time.

(Patty cared about all her agents. Jack was pretty sure, though, that she cared more about her niece than, say, Alex, but also that she’d never, never admit it, not even to him. Not explicitly, anyway.)

(He could read her pretty well now, after all.)

(He knew she knew that.)

* * *

**UNKNOWN LOCATION**

**(VERY SMELLY UNKNOWN LOCATION)**

**MOGADISHU**

**SOMALIA**

* * *

Alex came to slowly, opening his eyes, thankful for the small mercy that the room was relatively dark.

He blinked, once, twice, and then it all came rushing back and he did everything he could to raise his head (his muscles still weren’t working very well), looking for his partner (temporary or not, she was his partner for this mission, and it was their job to watch each other’s backs).

Thankfully, he didn’t have to look too hard (and thankfully, they were at least still together), because Viv was bound crudely but efficiently with zip-ties to a chair opposite him, also woozily coming to.

Small mercies indeed.

Cajoling his voice to work, he spoke.

‘Mogadishu’s charms are _not_ growing on me.’

His voice was hoarse and weak, but it was there.

She looked up, and he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on her face, which he definitely counted as a win.

‘ _What_ charms?’

* * *

**RUDIMENTARY FIELD HEADQUARTERS**

**MOGADISHU**

**SOMALIA**

* * *

‘…Carter, you got it yet? You’re not usually this slow!’

Rowena reached out and put a hand on her partner’s shoulder. Nick had both palms on the table top and was staring down at it, as he, Rowena, May, Jack and Mac conferenced with Carter, who was still on the jet.

‘Working as fast as I can, Nick. Hacking the secret military section of a Chinese satellite isn’t child’s play!’ Carter sounded worried and frustrated, a very understandable mix of emotions. Nick made a sound a bit like a frustrated growl, and Rowena’s hand tightened a little on his shoulder, even as worry flickered across her own face briefly. ‘…Got it! Sending you the coordinates now, working on getting you a view of the compound…’

Nick straightened up, checking his gun, and made to stride towards the door, stopped only by Rowena’s hand on his shoulder.

Jack, after glancing at Mac, Rowena and May, spoke, his voice a little gentler than most would have expected.

‘We can’t go rushing in blind, man.’ Nick opened his mouth, but Jack continued, cutting him off. ‘I’d wanna do the same in your position, brother, and you’d stand here, telling me the exact same thing.’

After a moment, Nick gave a jerky little nod, and then returned to standing at the table around the laptop.

Both Rowena and May shot Jack grateful little smiles, which were returned with a nod.

* * *

‘…It’s the best entry point, yeah, but we’d need a massive distraction…’

‘Multiple distractions, at least. Scatter the hostiles, scatter their attention. Get them confused.’

Mac tossed a paperclip, shaped like a cow for reasons unknown, onto the table.

‘I have an idea.’

* * *

**TEN OF SPADES’ COMPOUND**

**(STILL VERY SMELLY)**

**(WHY DO TERRORISTS NEVER CLEAN REGULARLY?)**

**MOGADISHU**

**SOMALIA**

* * *

‘Who are you? Who do you work for? Who sent you?’

Alex did his best to raise his hands, which was hard, since he was bound to the chair he was seated in.

‘Woah, woah, man, one question at a time…’

He was backhanded hard across the face by the man in front of him, who glanced at his boss. (It seemed the Ten of Spades wasn’t all too keen on getting his own hands dirty, at least not yet – he was holding a very large gun, after all.)

The men had directed their attention to Viv at first, seeming to think that a woman would be easier to break than a man.

They had been very wrong.

She’d decided to answer them in Mandarin.

In Mandarin _insults_ , to be accurate.

Despite the situation, Alex had found it very, very hard to suppress a laugh.

The two men conversed in Arabic for a moment, then the Ten of Spades shot them both a very dark, very threatening look.

‘We will get the truth out of you. Even if I have to use the very hard way.’ He gestured to one of the guards by the door. ‘Get the sodium pentothal.’

* * *

‘…Yeah, so they’ve been together for years, since I was in college actually…we walked in on them once, me and Carter and May, and it was _traumatising_ …I’ve got to tell you, seeing a father figure’s ass does nothing for one’s mental well-being…’

Alex knew he was babbling.

He was kind of doing it on purpose.

He’d never experienced sodium pentothal (colloquially known as truth serum), but it was making him very chatty. He’d so far managed to largely prevent himself from revealing anything that was actually classified, but it was very, very difficult.

Viv was faring a little bit better, though not much, as she was currently telling the man interrogating her all about her last girls’ night with the women of Matty’s team and a selection from the Phoenix.

(There were some juicy secrets in there. Ones that the other men would probably pay a hefty price to hear, since, given the way the girls liked to keep quiet about what actually went on during their girls’ nights, they may as well be classified.)

‘…it took five cocktails to get it out of her, but yeah, I was totally right…’

* * *

About five minutes later, there was a loud bang. Like a car crashing.

And then that was followed by…mooing?

Lots of mooing?

Alex and Viv’s eyes met around the sides of their interrogators, who were looking just as confused (actually, more confused – since Alex and Viv were at least expecting a rescue, even if they’d never even considered it involving cows…).

Another man opened the door and started speaking in rapid Arabic, and a moment later, the two interrogators glanced at them, then rushed out the door, locking it carefully behind them.

* * *

The drug still coursing through their systems, keeping them drowsy and giving them headaches and essentially meaning they weren’t very functional, Alex and Viv made eye contact across the room, and Viv blurted (literally, blurted) out what she’d wanted to tell him for a handful of short, brief, brave and maybe insane moments during their encounters for the last couple of months.

Something that had started on Mac and Bozer’s back deck that night she’d made a terrible error of judgement.

‘Our… _something_ …scares me. I don’t know you very well, I didn’t know you at all in Azerbaijan, but you make me feel like _fire_ and I’ve never felt that before and…there’s just something…something about…’ She shook her head. ‘…when we were in Nashville, and that teddy bear and…’ Something soft flickered across her face. ‘…I kept it, you know…and there was a moment, then, that I almost…I almost felt like it was real. Not a cover.’

Alex stared at her.

Stared for a moment, because he’d never, ever, ever thought she’d say anything like this.

He knew that she felt this _something_ too. Felt like he did, felt that spark they had, that connection and synergy.

(Something that he hadn’t felt with any other woman, and he’d been in love a handful of times over his life.)

But he’d also seen, clear as day, that she was determined to keep him at some kind of distance.

He’d thought that maybe she was scared, because this kind of scared him, too.

(But he was an adrenaline junkie. He’d been a fighter pilot. He kind of liked that sensation.)

They should be trying to escape.

This was unprofessional.

This was inappropriate.

But something told him that he would never, ever get another chance.

That they and their _something…_ it was now or never.

So Alex talked.

(They could blame it on the truth serum later.)

‘I...I think some of it _was_ real.’ She gave a little nod. ‘This is new for me too, Viv. I’ve never…I’ve never felt like this before. It’s…it’s something crazy, like out of a romance novel.’

She gave a snort.

‘You _read_ romance novels?’ But she nodded. ‘This _is_ romance-novel level.’

He shrugged as best as he could, seeking out her eyes, something imploring, wishing, maybe longing, in his eyes.

(She’d intrigued him for months, caught his eye, his attention, his interest. Caught it exclusively; the handful of times he’d gone out these months, he’d had no interest in availing himself of the company of any of the several interested women, none at all. He hadn’t slept alone every night for so long since his last Air Force deployment.)

(Maybe it was creepy, watching her like that – or it would have been, if he hadn’t noticed her watching him back – but it seemed that the more he learned about this woman, the more she intrigued him.)

(Nick and Rowena’s story would make a good romance novel. So would Carter and May’s. Or maybe even Bozer and Riley’s tale, or Mac and Beth’s.)

(So maybe this crazy-romance-novel _something_ could be like their stories too.)

If he said this, there’d be no going back. No laughing it off, blaming it on the truth serum and adrenaline and danger and just her being (very) attractive and him being a little lonely.

He jumped.

‘Maybe it’s like that, sometimes, for some people. And maybe we’re two of those people.’

Viv opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, the door burst open and there was a relieved shout.

‘Flyboy!’

Alex had once had the misfortune of seeing Nick’s backside after doing the equivalent of walking in on your parents.

Right then, he would have gone through that at least ten times more for Nick to burst in thirty seconds later.

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Beth smiled at Viv, as the dark-haired woman pulled on her jacket again.

‘You’re free to go, though please refrain from operating heavy machinery, including driving, make sure you stay hydrated and get plenty of rest for the next twenty-four hours.’

Viv raised an eyebrow, expression wry.

‘What heavy machinery might I be operating?’

Beth smiled, a little sheepish and a little wry.

‘Just covering all bases.’

That didn’t surprise Viv in the slightest, given who the doctor’s boyfriend was.

(They’d all heard the various stories about Mac and trash compactors, after all.)

(Yes, there were _several_ incidents involving Mac and trash compactors.)

(It sounded outrageous, but once one knew Mac, it wasn’t in the slightest.)

Beth stepped towards the door, but halfway there, she turned back. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if wondering if she was crossing some line, before coming to a decision and speaking.

‘Alex is in the room next door. I’m discharging him next and will be done in ten minutes, if you want to speak to him.’

Her voice was, quite impressively, almost-completely matter-of-fact.

Viv nodded, a little smile growing on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Beth just gave a little nod and a smile in response, and slipped out.

* * *

As Alex was putting on his shoes, he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

‘Come in.’

He had a sneaking suspicion (maybe a hope) of who was on the other side.

And indeed, in stepped Viv, looking, at least to his eyes, a tiny bit shy. A tiny bit nervous.

But she was brave and bold, as he knew so well, so she smirked at him, crossing her arms.

‘You want to go to my favourite arcade so I can kick your ass in DDR?’

He grinned.

‘I’d like that.’ She smiled back at him, looking younger and more carefree, innocent, for a moment. Then, his expression changed into more of a teasing smirk. ‘But don’t count your chickens before they hatch.’

She returned that teasing smirk.

‘Oh, I play to win.’

He grinned again.

‘So do I.’

* * *

**MEANWHILE…**

* * *

‘Cows, Beth! Cows! Your boyfriend used _cows_! Do you have any idea how I’m supposed to explain that on the expense report? _Cows_!’

Jack paced around Beth’s office in the infirmary, gesticulating wildly.

Beth nodded, expression somewhere between sympathy and amusement.

‘Well, I can see why that’d be an issue, but Thornton is used to Mac’s improvising, I’m sure she’ll go easy on you…’ Her brow furrowed and she looked up at Mac, who’d taken a couple of paperclips from the kidney dish on her desk and was re-shaping them into cattle, again, looking a little too pleased with himself (which she couldn’t _really_ blame him for; it _was_ pretty awesome and fascinating that he’d managed to distract and confuse hardened terrorists with _livestock_ , even if she felt rather sorry for Jack; nobody liked paperwork, after all). ‘Mac…what did you _do_ with the cows? I understand you used them as a distraction, but precisely _how_? And why _cows_? I thought sheep and goats were more common in Somalia…’

Jack muttered under his breath, too quiet for Mac and Beth to hear, since they were so caught up in the story of Mac’s cow-straction, as Jack called it.

‘Mini-geniuses making pancake-making toasters and flying polar bear-scarecrows and bouncing eggs and calling me Grandpa Jack…oh, I can see it now…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creative liberties taking with the effects of ‘truth serum’. I went for an effect like what happened to Jack in 1.12, Screwdriver! Did you guys like that? I thought it was fun; of course, I adore writing about our favourite team, but I also really do enjoy these glimpses into other people’s lives. It’s fun and refreshing to get a bit of a change! Alex and Viv’s relationship is the first time I’ve ever written anything like this; I’m normally a really-good-friends-to-lovers person, so do you think I pulled this off? 
> 
> What kind of distraction did Mac achieve using cows? Honestly, I don’t have much of an idea, but it was fun/amusing to have him use cows! (According to Wikipedia, Beth is right about sheep and goats being more common in Somalia, but they do herd/farm cattle there too.) The reason why it is cows is because my chemistry lecturer, three days before I wrote this, was telling us a story about the generators used to produce Technetium-99m, which is a gamma-radiation-emitting isotope used for SPECT scans, a type of medical imaging – these generators contain Molybdenum and are colloquially known in the field as MolyCows. Yes, my brain is weird.
> 
> Next chapter: The Invisible Gorilla. Lil is not a field agent. Definitely not. She’s an analyst who stays firmly in front of her laptop at HQ. Until one day, the mission needs her. In the field. Luckily, she has very supportive teammates. Friends. ‘You can do this.’


	15. The Invisible Gorilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil is not a field agent. Definitely not. She’s an analyst who stays firmly in front of her laptop at HQ. Until one day, the mission needs her. In the field. Luckily, she has very supportive teammates. Friends. ‘You can do this.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written pre-2.07, Duct Tape + Jack, so my Lil/Jill is a bit different from the canon one, methinks – I went off her shy/slightly-terrified-of-and-intimidated-by-everyone personality in earlier episodes. (Though, maybe she’s just not scared of Bozer…)

**MATTY’S TEAM’S HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…I think I’ve got it!’ Lil half-jumped out of her seat, then managed to collect herself and hurried over to their war room, laptop in hand, where Matty was conversing with Sarah. She knocked on the door, and at Matty’s nod, stepped inside, pointing to the image of the glitzy, yet-classy nightclub on her laptop. ‘This nightclub in Hollywood is a front for the Moretti family’s operations.’ The Moretti branch of the Italian Mafia had recently allied itself with The Organization, for reasons unknown. Given the reasons unknown, and given that the Mafia wasn’t really their problem, they were hoping to extract some valuable intel on The Organization by infiltrating the Moretti Mafia’s network, rather than taking them out. That, in Lil’s opinion, sucked, but sometimes, in the spy game, you had to play a long game. ‘It’s a hub, people come and go and exchange information, and as far as I can tell, there’s a few computers in there that should be connected to their servers…’

Several hacking attempts by Viv and Lil, with help from Riley, had failed to get into the Moretti family’s servers and network. They needed to be on a computer already connected to the network, and even then, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Matty and Sarah exchanged a glance, then the shorter woman smiled at the blonde.

‘Good work, Lil.’ Then, Matty pulled out her phone and dialled a number that she called quite often. ‘Hi, Thornton. Can I borrow Riley and Bozer?’

* * *

**TWO HOURS LATER**

* * *

‘…I’m really not a field agent, I’m an analyst, I don’t…’

Matty, stern and firm yet not without kindness, as she so often was, looked Lil dead in the eye.

‘You know if we’re going to pull off what we want to pull off, we need you in there with Viv and Riley.’ That was true; they wanted to clone all the information on their network, embed some software to get them any new information that was uploaded and to infect all of their connections to do the same, all without the Morettis noticing. It was a big, big job, not one that any of the three hackers could pull off on their own, and not one that even Viv and Riley could pull off together. ‘You have the skill-set we need, Lil. You have to do this.’

The young definitely-not-field analyst glanced up at the others in the room: Cage, Viv, Riley, Sarah and Bozer. The looks in their eyes suggested that they all believed in her, even if there was something rather analytical in Cage’s eyes all the same, as if she was weighing her up. Bozer even shot her an encouraging double thumbs-up.

Lil swallowed and jerkily gave a nod.

Matty gave a little smile, then stepped back and tapped her tablet, and on the big screen in front of them, four cover identities with Viv, Riley, Cage and Lil’s photos appeared. They were going to be graduate students at UCLA, four close girlfriends studying Psychology (Cage), International Relations (Viv), Computer Science (Riley) and Cryptanalysis (Lil).

Bozer shook his head with a little smirk.

‘Easiest way to get into an exclusive club: be a young, hot, single chick.’

Everyone else in the room shot him a look, though none of them really seemed to be disagreeing with him.

Bozer shrugged, holding up his hands in a _woah, don’t shoot the messenger_ kind of gesture.

‘Hey, it’s true!’

Matty, Sarah, Cage and Viv all raised their brows a little, then turned away relatively dismissively, and Riley gave a snort and socked her boyfriend lightly in the arm in an affectionate and exasperated way. Lil smiled, giving a little giggle, and shot Bozer a grateful glance, which was responded to with a little smile and another thumbs-up.

Then, Lil took a deep breath as she started reading through her cover identity.

This was doable.

She could do this.

She had to.

* * *

‘…All Kevlar-embedded, of course, and hand-made by yours truly. There’s a secret pocket here in all of them to hide a USB or something about that big...’ Bozer indicated the secret pocket sewn into the lining of the dress on the mannequin, which Riley had told Viv, Cage and Lil he’d staunchly refused to leave the Phoenix without. Then, he put down the edge of the dress and picked up several lace garters in several colours. ‘And the usual weapon and phone holders, of course.’

Bozer grinned proudly, gesturing one last time to the mannequin, then grabbed four garment bags, and after checking the labels, handed one each to Riley, Viv, Cage and Lil.

Lil, after unzipping her bag, to find a navy-blue dress best described as ‘flirty’, leaned closer to Viv, who had a little black dress that lived up to the little portion of its name.

‘Should I be concerned that Bozer knows my measurements?’

Viv just gave a little smirk and turned to Bozer with a slightly-arched brow, which made Lil think that Viv very much knew the answer, but just wanted to tease Bozer, make him squirm a bit.

Bozer, for his part, just raised his hands in supplication.

‘They’re all in your medical files! I only get access to those sections when I need them for, you know, making disguises and outfits and all!’

Cage was examining her own dress, a very eye-catching red number (which made sense, since she was going to be the distraction, while Viv, Lil and Riley slipped into the ‘staff only’ areas to execute their plan), and then she looked up at Bozer.

‘This is very well-done.’ Bozer grinned. ‘How’d you learn how to sew?’

Bozer’s grin widened as he seemingly got lost in the past.

‘Well, so when I was in high school, I had a massive crush on this girl, and me and Mac’s school put on _Romeo and Juliet_ , and she was Juliet, and so I wanted to be involved in the play to spend time with her, you know, but the only opening left was in costumes, so…’

Cage regarded him for a moment.

‘You’re lying.’

Bozer blinked in shock, then made a face.

‘How’d you know?’

Cage half-raised an eyebrow.

‘Your tone, you looked up to your right five times, sixteen different micro-expressions…I could go on.’

Riley shook her head with exasperated affection, putting a hand on her hip.

‘Told you not to make that bet with Jack, Boze.’

That only made Cage raise her eyebrow further, and Bozer took one look at the expression on her face, eyes widening a little comically, and just bent to pick up a large make-up bag, reaching into it and pulling out a large handful of make-up brushes.

‘If anybody needs a hand with hair and make-up…’ He gave an exaggerated bow. ‘I live to serve, ladies, live to serve.’

Cage and Viv exchanged a glance, the kind of glance that Lil remembered exchanging with a couple of her female cousins and her sister, that amused and slightly fondly exasperated look they’d often had in response to their younger brothers’ or male cousins’ antics.

Riley just shook her head and rolled her eyes, with fondness and softness in her eyes and her smile all the same.

Lil, despite her nerves at her very first field mission, which were only getting worse as it approached, gave a little grin.

* * *

‘…I can’t do this. I can’t…’ Lil gestured at their reflections in the mirror, the four of them all in high heels to match their pretty dresses, Viv and Lil’s usual glasses replaced by contacts, hair and make-up nicely done. Cage and Viv pulled off femme-fatale very, very well, and while Riley was a little less seductive, a little less polished, she still looked exactly the part of mysterious-and-possibly-a-little-bad girl, and while that wasn’t really what they were going for, not completely, on this particular mission, Lil knew that nobody would doubt them. Unlike her, a little awkward and shy and until relatively recently, absolutely terrified of Matty and Riley and several other people. Nobody was going to believe that she was a hot-and-knew-it-and-used-it grad student out for a fun night on the town with her best friends, because she really, really wasn’t. She was _Lil_ , analyst, glasses-wearing pastel-sweater-and-polka-dots aficionado who was most at home in front of a computer and spent most of her nights at home with Netflix and her two cats, who was more than a little shy but sassy once she got comfortable. She was _way_ more Mindy Park than Bond girl. ‘Nobody’s going to believe…’

She looked almost panicked for a moment, and Cage glanced quickly at Viv and Riley, who just quietly slipped out of the room in response.

Lil almost didn’t notice.

Cage stepped forward.

‘Have you heard of the Invisible Gorilla? It was an experiment conducted in 1999 at Harvard by Chabris and Simons. Several variations of it have been done since.’

Lil gave a little nod.

‘I…I think so, I mean, I think it might have been on _CSI_ once…’

Cage nodded.

‘It’s one of the most famous psychological experiments ever done.’ After a moment of hesitation, she reached out and put a hand on Lil’s shoulder. ‘The gorilla is invisible because people see what they expect to see. And these expectations are formed remarkably quickly and easily.’ Cage let go of her shoulder and nudged her to look in the mirror. ‘Dress like this, walk around with us, act just a little like your cover, and you’ll fool most people. People will form an expectation and see only what they expect.’ She paused for a moment. ‘You can do this.’

Lil stared at her reflection for a moment, gathering her courage and calming herself down, taking a couple of deep breaths.

Then, she nodded.

‘Thanks, Sam.’

The other blonde gave a little smile, then knocked on the door to call Riley and Viv back in.

They had some selfies to take, to put on their covers’ social media.

* * *

'We did it! That was _awesome_!’

Lil grinned as Sarah, who was their back-up, drove them back to their HQ, the older woman with a proud little smile on her face.

Their mission had been 100% successful.

Riley reached out and fist-bumped her, an action then repeated by Viv.

Then, Lil and Cage’s eyes met, and the interrogation expert just gave a little nod, a smile on her face.

‘You did it.’

Lil’s grin widened.

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…All of my clothes are ruined, brother! Including my new shoes! Which I just got broken in just right, man!’

Mac, sitting on a hospital bed in a hospital gown, just like his partner, rolled his eyes.

‘Would you rather have gotten blown up, Jack?’

Jack gave a snort.

‘Of course not, brother! But still, going for a swim in some sewage? _That_ was the best you could come up with?’

Mac huffed out a sigh.

‘Yes, that was the best I could come up with in the approximately 74 seconds that we had.’ He sighed again, running a hand through his damp hair (he and Jack had had very thorough showers). ‘I’ll break in your new shoes for you.’

Jack looked befuddled.

‘How’re you gonna do that, Mac?’

The blonde shrugged.

‘No idea. Yet. I’ll work something out. There’s all sorts of tips and tricks and old wives’ tales for breaking in shoes…’

As Mac spoke, the door opened, and in stepped Beth, who simply shot the blonde a rather wry look, having heard most of what he’d just said.

‘If you’re going to use urea, Mac, please use the store-bought variety.’

That made him chuckle, and she smiled as he nodded.

‘I promise, Beth.’

Jack glanced between the two of them, and made a face.

‘Come on, let me in on the joke!’

Beth and Mac exchanged a wry look, then Mac addressed his partner.

‘Trust me, Jack, you don’t want to know.’

Beth nodded sagely in agreement, then held up her tablet.

‘Both of your blood samples came back clean, so I don’t think you contracted anything, so you’re free to go. Please contact me _immediately_ if you start feeling ill in any way, shape or form.’

That was punctuated with a very firm look.

Jack gave a salute.

‘Aye, aye, Doc.’

Mac just nodded seriously, and with a small smile, Beth stepped out of the room.

* * *

Riley, Viv, Lil and Cage were all standing in the infirmary, waiting for the doctor. (Since their mission had been very, very successful, and debrief was over, and it was 9 am on Saturday and they all had the rest of the day off, they were going out for brunch. They’d stopped by the Phoenix to drop off their outfits and to invite Beth to come along.)

When she saw her friends, Beth gave a wry little grin.

‘I heard I missed a girls’ night out.’

They all nodded, and Riley gave a teasing little smirk.

‘You did. But…’ The smirk widened a bit. ‘…Did you enjoy your romantic dinner with your favourite mad scientist?’

Beth’s expression became more wry.

‘We had to take a rain-check. He and Jack had to go save the Panamanian ambassador from being blown up.’ Her expression grew even more wry, and she gestured with her head to Mac and Jack’s room. ‘They also went for a dip in some sewage.’

That got faces of disgust all round.

‘Wow, we had a _way_ better night.’ Lil looked sheepish. ‘Uh…sorry, Beth.’

Viv, an amused little smile on her face, saw fit to rescue the other woman, and gestured to Sam, Riley, herself and Lil, then at Beth.

‘We were going to grab brunch. Want to come with?’

Beth shook her head with a smile.

‘No, thanks, I’m almost-certain Mac’s improvising something to make up for last night, so…’

Lil made an _aww_ sound, while the other three women gave smirks of varying degrees.

‘Have fun.’

With a few waves, Sam, Viv, Lil and Riley walked out of the infirmary, Viv speaking as they did.

‘Where are we going?’

Riley made a suggestion.

‘I know a place run by one of Bozer’s friends from his burger-flipping days who made it big…’

Sam gave a little smile.

‘Or…I know a place.’ Her Australian accent became more broad, a deliberate action. ‘How do you feel about an Aussie brunch?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like this story? There’s a lot of bits and bobs in it; hopefully a little something for everyone…except maybe the die-hard action fans (see what I did there?), sorry!
> 
> This literally all came from Cage + Bozer + fancy dress in 2.02, Muscle Car + Paperclip, and that moment between Mac and Cage in 2.04, X-Ray + Penny with the KYM technique. I now have an inexplicable desire to write more badass (in many ways)-women-of-this-MacGyver-AU fics...
> 
> Beth and Mac are referring to the practice of softening leather/animal hides using urine (urine contains urea, which breaks down into ammonia, which being a relatively decent base, breaks down organic material, so softens things like leather). In the past (I think about WWI/II), soldiers would urinate in their boots and leave it overnight to soften them.
> 
> Really random thing I just found out – the guy who plays Murdoc plays Kurt in Ant-Man! That’s why he looks so familiar! (That was a very common problem of mine – when I saw my first episode of MacGyver – which was 1.09, Chisel – I spent ages trying to work out who in the hell the guys who played Mac and Jack were, because they looked so darn familiar, before I cheated and looked them up on Wikipedia.)
> 
> Thoughts on 2.08, Packing Peanuts + Fire: I also loved this episode! I had my concerns when I heard they’re bringing in Riley’s dad, but I think they handled it really well – I especially love how Riley established boundaries with him (Jack is Riley’s father figure and NOBODY is gonna change that!). I also really liked how they’re implied he’s in Alcoholics Anonymous and is specifically here to make amends (because he tried to beat up Diane, I’m glad that he’s at least acknowledging that he was abusive and had to change and has something to apologize for). Bozer at spy training camp and managing to crack a spy ring was a nice touch (though I thought that the guy was planted there by the spy school as part of the training until Matty said otherwise…), and Mac the art nerd was also pretty funny! Having Cage be the one who knows about Riley meeting her dad was a nice touch, I like the idea of the two of them being friends, I think they’d be great friends, and I also feel that if it had been Mac or Bozer, there’d have been way too much drama, and she’s got the right skill set to help Riley out too. It was a great use of Cage as a character is what I’m saying. 
> 
> In terms of no episode next week - is there a reason for that to be, Americans? (Like a sporting event or something...) Or does that mean they're doing re-shoots or something, which might mean crazy plot twist a la Screwdriver? 
> 
> Next chapter: This is Halloween. ‘Back in D.C., I was known for my haunted houses. Kids would tremble when approaching my front door…’ Cage makes a Halloween bet that she’s determined to win, and conscripts the team (and Mac’s house) to ensure her victory.


	16. This is Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _‘Back in D.C., I was known for my haunted houses. Kids would tremble when approaching my front door…’_
> 
> Cage makes a Halloween bet that she’s determined to win, and conscripts the team (and Mac’s house) to ensure her victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, this draws heavily from 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet…minus the trip to the Bermuda Triangle and nearly-dying bit.

**A FEW DAYS BEFORE HALLOWEEN**

**BREAK ROOM**

**MATTY’S TEAM’S HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘Back in D.C., I was known for my haunted houses. Kids would tremble when approaching my front door…’

Sam smirked at her best friend over their coffee cups. Viv, however, simply smirked right back, her face mirroring the other woman’s.

‘Every year, I put on the best haunted condo in all of LA.’ They eyed each other off for a moment, both of them with the light of a challenge in their eyes, and then Viv continued. ‘Want to make a bet, Sam?’

The blonde woman’s smirk widened.

‘You’re on, Viv.’ She held out a hand for Viv to shake, which she did. ‘May the best haunted house and the best woman win.’ Then, her face changed, becoming a bit more business-like. ‘Since you get Alex, Rowena, Nick, Carter and May, I get Mac, Bozer, Riley and Beth. And Jack.’

You didn’t need to be a behavioural expert in order to know that Alex (and thus, his team) would be on Viv’s team.

(Alex was a supportive boyfriend.)

Viv nodded in agreement.

‘Charlie’s on my team, Lil’s on yours. And I’m using Nick and Rowena’s place.’

Sam nodded; that was fair, a good haunted house needed plenty of room…though, a house full of materials and heaps of convenient little surprises would be an advantage too.

‘Then I’m using Mac’s.’ Sam’s mind turned to the judging. ‘Matty, Sarah and Patricia will be the judges.’ Sam gave a little smirk. ‘As for the winner’s prize…’

Viv, too, smirked, after regarding Sam for a moment.

‘…It couldn’t possibly be anything else.’

The two best-friends-turned-opponents nodded in agreement to the terms, and then Lil, who’d been leaning against the counter and sipping her coffee this whole time, spoke up. She had several pressing questions; the first being what the prize actually _was,_ and the second being…

‘Shouldn’t you _ask_ everyone before you start conscripting them?’

Viv and Sam exchanged a glance, little smirk-smiles on their faces, along with slightly-raised brows.

‘They’ll do it.’

Sam sounded very sure of herself.

Viv’s smirk widened a little as she drained her coffee.

‘Like we’d give them a choice.’

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Bozer, his arms full of extra-large spiders (not _real_ spiders, decorative ones, of course), hummed to himself as he walked into his home.

‘Hey guys, I found the spiders!’ He walked into the living room, and suddenly, George Washington’s face was in front of him. Bozer screamed and dropped the spiders, jumping back a couple of feet. Then, a moment later, coming back to himself, he shook his head. ‘ _Not_ cool, guys, _not_ cool!’

Riley, Mac and Jack were laughing like crazy, though Mac and Riley were making an apology of sorts between chuckles, claiming it was just too funny to resist, Riley leaning over to peck his cheek quickly as a substitute when she couldn’t finish getting the words out. Sam was smiling, amused, though she didn’t seem to know _precisely_ what was going on (for once), while Beth and Lil were both giggling, though both also looked a little sheepish for doing so.

Sam raised an eyebrow as the laughter didn’t cease.

‘You’re scared of George Washington?’

Bozer crossed his arms.

‘Hey, if one of the two big-bads tried to kill you while wearing George Washington’s face, you’d be scared of him too.’ Bozer pointed at Riley, who was holding the skeleton’s controller and had definitely been the mastermind behind it all. ‘And come on, said big-bad’s tried to kill almost everyone here, either directly or indirectly…well, except you, Sam.’

Bozer nodded at the blonde woman, who was standing on a ladder and decorating the ceiling fan with cobwebs.

After a last few giggles, everyone turned back to their tasks. Bozer stepped forward to help Riley re-set the skeleton (they’d put up the spiders next), and Jack returned to painting the walls with fake blood (specially made by Mac – with help from Beth and Bozer - to look very, very convincing _and_ come off nice and easy). Mac himself returned to working on rigging up a swarm of flying bats, while Lil turned her attention back to coding the program for the flying bats, so they’d swarm in and fly out again just when they were wanted, and Beth continued painting an anatomically-correct skeleton on a piece of fabric.

A little while later, Jack made a face and held up the corner of his shirt.

‘Ugh, man…I’m getting blood all over my 3rd favourite Metallica shirt.’

(By holding the shirt, he was getting more blood on it.)

(They all chose not to point that out to him.)

Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

‘How many Metallica shirts do you have?’

Jack puffed out his chest rather proudly.

‘Ten, well, eleven counting the framed one.’

Sam gave a little snort, and Lil did too, with a bit of a sheepish smile that Sam certainly didn’t have. Riley rolled her eyes and Bozer raised his to the ceiling, as if praying to some fashion god, while Mac shook his head with exasperated affection and Beth gave an amused, fond smile.

Jack, still grumbling, flopped down onto a bar stool, gesturing at the decorations.

‘Come on, Cage, these…these are lame, man! Cobwebs! Skeletons! _Pshaw_! You need something _really_ scary. Authentic!’ Jack rubbed his hands together. ‘I ever tell you guys about the time my cousin George, he’s crazy, like real crazy, and I stole a real dead body from the morgue?’ Jack leaned back on the stool, sitting very stiffly, like a corpse. ‘We put him on the front porch, sat him just like this, and man…’

Everyone stared at him, varying levels of shock, disbelief and exasperation on their faces.

‘You stole a _real_ dead body?’ Jack nodded solemnly in response to Bozer’s question, as the younger man continued. ‘Jack, that’s a felony.’

He made a face, gesturing as if he couldn’t believe they weren’t impressed.

‘Nah, it’s a misdemeanour. A slap on the wrist.’ He swatted at the air with a hand. ‘Besides, his funeral wasn’t until the next weekend, so…’

Mac looked as if he was very tempted to bury his face in his hands. Beth, who looked rather horrified (her intimate experiences with death, Mac supposed, were rather different from Jack’s, or his – her field of work would give one a great respect for the bodies of the dead), reached out and patted his shoulder comfortingly nonetheless. Lil had decided to just bury herself back in her coding, and Riley was staring at Jack, her mouth a little bit open and shaking her head at him. Even Sam looked a little shocked, though just a little.

Bozer held out a hand, shaking his head very firmly at Jack.

‘Jack, man, I would _never_ tell that story again.’

* * *

As she and Bozer strung up the last of the spiders while Riley put away the George Washington mask, Bozer watching her with eagle eyes and pointing at her with a very severe expression (too severe to be genuinely, totally felt – it was definitely part-teasing) until she put it away in a cupboard above the sink, Sam gave a little smirk

‘All we need is an octopus or two…’

Bozer whipped around so quickly that it was comical.

‘How’d…how’d you know that...’

(Only Riley and Mac knew about his phobia, and they’d both pinky-sworn to never, ever tell a soul.)

(They took pinky-swears very, very seriously.)

_Yes, Bozer is terrified of octopuses._

_And no, that’s not a mistake._

_The correct anglicised plural form of octopus is octopuses, not octopi, as most people think._

_Octopus doesn’t derive from a Latin word, for which the plural octopi would be correct, but a Latinzed form of the Greek word oktopous, so the correct plural must be octopodes._

_Or, in English, octopuses._

_Anyway, getting back on topic, I’d like to say, for the record, that it is not my fault that Bozer has an irrational fear of octopuses._

_There were no mollusc-themed experiments gone wrong or overly imaginative stories about eight-limbed sea creatures, I promise._

_In fact, he didn’t even tell me until he was thirteen and I was eleven and we were watching a documentary on marine life…and well, he didn’t actually tell me, I initially just inferred it from his reaction…but that’s a story for another time._

Sam’s smirk widened a little.

‘Interrogation expert, remember?’

And with that, she stepped off the ladder, leaving a slightly-spluttering (and a little bit creeped out) Bozer in her wake.

Unbeknownst to Bozer, Sam winked at Riley, Beth and Lil, who having heard the whole conversation, had exchanged a significant look, which had also occurred unbeknownst to Bozer.

They were quite sure that the reason why Sam knew that was because she was a behavioural and interrogation expert who’d heard a story told by Riley at their last girls’ night.

(Now that they had both pieces of the puzzle, Bozer’s phobia was very clear to Lil and Beth, as clever as they were and familiar with Bozer – and Riley – that they were.)

(They were right, but Sam wasn’t going to admit it, at least not explicitly.)

(A true master interrogator never revealed her secrets.)

_I am, of course, very, very curious about what goes on at girls’ nights._

_All of us guys are._

_But, as they say, curiosity killed the cat._

_In this case…well, let’s just say I don’t think we could pick a worse group of women to piss off by trying to crash it or eavesdrop on it in some way, shape or form._

_Especially if it’s one of those girls’ nights that Patricia and Matty attend._

* * *

A couple of hours later, as they sat down for a quick meal before getting into costume for the night, Jack raised the beer in his hand and gestured to Sam.

‘I get the whole competition thing, Cage, ‘cause hey, who doesn’t love to win?’ Jack took a sip of his beer. ‘But what’s your, uh, deal with Halloween, Cage?’ Jack shrugged. ‘You know, it doesn’t really fit that whole fearless-badass-master-interrogator with a great dead-pan thing you’ve got going on…I mean, kids, candy, dressing up…’

Mac reached out and slapped Jack’s arm.

‘That was _completely_ tactless, Jack.’

Jack looked affronted.

‘Hey, it’s all part of my roguish charm, brother!’ He pointed at Mac. ‘Besides, _as if_ you weren’t dying to know, man, I know what goes in in that giant brain of yours.’

_He’s not wrong, but I would have found a more polite way to phrase that question._

_I have manners._

_Unlike some people._

With a sheepish little smile (because of course she’d been curious too, and besides, Jack was pretty spot-on about Mac…), Beth patted her boyfriend on the shoulder sympathetically. Absent-mindedly, Mac reached up and took her hand with a little smile.

Sam seemed to consider for a moment before speaking, her voice a bit softer than they’d expected.

A little more vulnerable.

‘We didn’t celebrate Halloween in Australia when I was growing up, though from what I hear, it’s bigger there now.’ She gave a soft little smile. ‘So part of it is just the novelty.’ She took a sip of her beer, looking up at them when she’d finished. ‘And it’s also because it’s a chance to forget about being an adult. Forget adult fears and just go back to being that kid scared of the monster under the bed again, and…’ She shrugged. ‘There’s something special about that.’

Jack nodded, clinking his beer with hers.

‘Amen to that, sister.’

Bozer grinned, throwing his hands out in a rather grand gesture.

(He almost upset the bowl of candy corn, which Riley managed to save.)

‘That’s the Halloween magic!’

Everyone else smiled and nodded in agreement.

_There is no such thing as magic._

_But there is definitely something special about Halloween._

_It’s not magic, but it is special._

* * *

**NICK AND ROWENA’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Viv grinned as she started braiding the second half of her hair.

The house had been decorated to her exacting standards, and now, they were all getting into costume.

They were doing the Addams family, with a darker, eviler twist.

Rowena (Morticia) was carefully painting her face ghostly-white, a task made a little more difficult by the long blood-red fake nails she was sporting. Nick (Gomez) was complaining about how ugly his costume was, and was naturally being ignored by everyone else, while Alex, who was naturally impersonating Pugsley, was wrestling with the zipper on the fat suit they’d managed to obtain for him. May (who’d turned herself into a very convincing Grandmamma) simply handed him one of Mac’s handy zipping-up devices, which Carter, feather-duster in hand (he was Lurch), had handed over to her with a simple ‘you rang?’ Meanwhile, Charlie was making some last checks to their robot Thing and robot Cousin Itt (which Alex, with a healthy dose of help from Carter and Charlie, had built), already in costume as Uncle Fester, minus the heavy fur coat, since it was heavy and hot.

They were going to win this, she was sure of that.

How could Sam possibly beat _this_?

Carter, who’d been getting into character by feather-dusting a bookshelf, turned and addressed Viv when he’d finished his task, grinning in a way that made him look at least ten years younger.

‘Man, it’s been ages since I’ve done anything this big for Halloween.’ His grin widened a little. ‘I’d kinda forgotten how fun it was.’

His teammates nodded in agreement, as did Charlie (whom Viv knew was going to be doing something big for Halloween for years to come – his wife Marissa, Viv and Sam were quite sure, was pregnant, even if she and Charlie hadn’t made the announcement yet) and Viv gave a smile, one of those smiles that made her look young and innocent and carefree.

(A smile that had honestly become more common for her, of late.)

‘That’s why Halloween’s my favourite holiday. It reminds me to be a kid again. To have fun.’ Her smile widened. ‘To laugh.’ She gestured to them, her voice a little softer and gentler and with a clear note of affection. ‘To care and show it, like kids do.’

Carter made an _aww_ sound, and jogged May with his elbow, mock-dramatically, then leaned over and put an arm around her waist and stage-whispered.

‘Told you she loves us, Maysie!’

May simply rolled her eyes in exasperated affection, something that Alex also did, even as Viv reached out to entangle her fingers with his for a moment and he squeezed her hand gently, while Charlie shook his head in amusement, and Rowena smiled one of her fond amused smiles and Nick grinned and spoke.

‘You never get old if you never grow up!’

Alex smirked and pointed at the older man.

‘Then how do we explain the fact that your hair’s practically grey but you still act like a ten-year-old?’

Viv, Carter and May all smirked too, Viv speaking.

‘Would you like some ice for that burn?’

As Nick grumbled under his breath (they were pretty sure there was something in there about kids these days not respecting their elders), they all turned back to putting the finishing touches on their costumes.

As Viv started on her make-up, Alex glanced over at his girlfriend with a look that May and Carter would describe as besotted.

Viv was, he knew very well, capable of being cold like ice, like stone. Distant. Removed.

Sometimes, it was a very, very good thing. In the field, for example, or when he went off on a relatively long and dangerous undercover mission, as was his job.

But he also knew that Viv’s greatest fear was that one day, that icy stone would take hold of her (that maybe, something would happen to drive her behind those walls, like Alex was completely convinced had happened to her aunt – given the shovel talk he’d received from his supposedly all-professional and seemingly cold and unfeeling boss, he knew that even though she was by nature cool, there was _far_ more below the surface, buried behind her walls, than most people thought).

Being Viv, she was determined to fight that, head-on.

Halloween was one of her ways.

And so, of course, he’d help her in this fight, just like in any other. Watch her back, like she watched his. Be right there by her side, as she was by his.

Besides, it was fun.

And whether the game was poker, DDR or a haunted house competition, he always played to win.

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘Trick or treat!’

The kids started trembling in fright as the door was opened by a zombie Scarecrow, then screamed as the zombified Tin-Man chased them down the hall and into a room where they were greeted by zombie Dorothy, who walked slowly towards them, her head tilted at an unnatural angle.

They rushed back out into the corridor, where they were greeted by Glinda the Good Witch, also zombified, and since the Tin-Man was still approaching from the other side, found themselves herded back into the entryway, the zombies approaching ominously…

* * *

‘That was _awesome_!’

The little boys grinned up at Jack (zombie Tin-Man), Riley (zombie Dorothy) and Beth (zombie Glinda), who grinned right back at them.

‘You guys are really sweet!’

Jack’s grin widened as Beth spoke, and he reached out and grabbed the giant bowl of candy sitting on the entryway table, and proceeded to tip most of it into the two boys’ bags.

Their eyes widened, and Riley and Beth exchanged an exasperated (but also rather indulgent – it _was_ Halloween, after all) glance.

‘Woah…that’s a lot of candy!’

Jack crouched down so as to be eye-level with the boys.

‘Yeah, it is! Have fun out there!’

With broad and excited grins, the kids headed out the door, held open by Sam (zombie Scarecrow), who glanced outside, then spoke.

‘Okay, great job everyone, back to ones, we’ve got another group coming!’

Bozer (zombie Cowardly Lion) ran into the entryway, and did his best to hide himself under the table.

‘Incoming! Incoming! Hide! Hide!’

The door opened, and in stepped Matty, Patricia, and Sarah, carrying bags of candy, the shortest woman speaking.

‘Nice try, Boze.’

Bozer made a face, though it was hard to tell from under all the make-up.

‘Thought you guys were coming over in costume?’

Matty glanced up at Patricia and Sarah and gave a little smirk.

‘We are.’

‘As what?’

The smirk widened, and a smirk appeared on Sarah’s face too, and perhaps the tiniest hint of one on Patricia’s.

‘Your worst nightmare.’

Bozer took a step backwards, back under the table, and saluted.

‘Well, in that case, you look perfect.’

Jack pointed at Matty with his (foam) axe.

‘Where’s your broom?’

Matty put her hands on her hips and stared right back up at him with one of her death-stares.

‘Do you want to spend the rest of the night pulling one out of your butt?’

Jack shook his head immediately, with a gulp.

‘No, ma’am.’

Matty just nodded, satisfied, and she, Sarah and Patricia started inspecting the haunted house. Matty held up her bag of candy as she did so.

‘Where’s Mac? He said you guys were almost out of candy…’

At that moment, Mac, as a zombified version of the Wizard, stepped out of the coffin by the door.

‘Hey, Matty, Patricia, Sarah. Thanks for picking up the extra candy.’ He reached out and took a few of the bags, an action repeated by Beth. ‘We’ll get these to Lil in the garage…’

(Lil was passing out candy in the garage, as zombie Toto, of course.)

Matty, Sarah and Patricia all nodded, and Matty spoke for the three of them.

‘And we’d better get on with our judging.’ She pointed at Jack rather menacingly. ‘Keep holding that axe over my head, Tin-Head, and you’ll lose Sam five points.’

Jack withdrew the axe instantly, saluting at both Matty and Sam.

(He did _not_ want to face Sam’s wrath if he was responsible for losing her this bet.)

Sam, who’d clearly seen the approach of another group on her phone (Mac’s security system was getting a work-out of a whole different kind tonight – he’d re-jigged it a little to alert them to the imminent presence of trick-or-treaters, with Riley’s help), called out as she got back into her own spot.

‘Get back to positions!’

* * *

**48 HOURS LATER**

**RICHLAND COUNTY**

**MONTANA**

* * *

Sitting in the front seat of the SUV, which Sarah was driving (they were in Montana, chasing a lead – they’d gotten wind that The Organization was planning on kidnapping the Vice President’s son for leverage or some other nefarious purpose), Sam turned her head to smile at Viv.

‘That was the best Halloween ever.’

Viv grinned right back, with a hint of a smirk in it.

‘Until next year.’

Sam nodded in agreement, her smile widening a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was that? Fun, I hope? And yes, 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet, has inspired another one-shot, as implied by that ending…
> 
> Heads up - I’ve finished my Christmas countdown fic (keep an eye out for it – it’s called _It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas_ , and will start posting December 1st!) and I’m 13,000 words and counting deep into another _MacGyver_ fic (it’s probably most similar to _There’s Something About MacGyver_ , if we’re going for a comparison with one of my existing fics). 
> 
> Next chapter: Face Your Fears. A nefarious Organization plot to kidnap the VP’s son. Chasing a lead to Devils Island, Montana…where a CIA plane, carrying a very dangerous package, and said VP’s son, has just crashed. It’s a trap, and Matty’s just sent her agents right into it.


	17. Face Your Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nefarious Organization plot to kidnap the VP’s son. Chasing a lead to Devils Island, Montana…where a CIA plane, carrying a very dangerous package, and said VP’s son, has just crashed. It’s a trap, and Matty’s just sent her agents right into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here’s the second half of this AU’s version of 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet. It picks up right after the previous chapter, This is Halloween, left off. At over 9000 words long, it’s also as long as many of the chapters in _Every End is a Beginning_ , so strap yourselves in!

**BOAT DOCK**

**NEAR DEVILS ISLAND**

**RICHLAND COUNTY**

**MONTANA**

* * *

‘Devils Island.’ Sarah shook her head as she climbed into the small motorboat they’d rented. ‘ _Really_ auspicious name.’

Viv rolled her eyes as she got in too.

‘It’s just a name, Sarah. A label.’

Sarah crossed her arms.

‘And places get labels for a reason.’

Meanwhile, Cage ignored Viv and Sarah’s good-natured bickering, and instead just concentrated on staying calm as she always was.

The water wasn’t that deep.

It was a calm day.

She could actually swim.

She wasn’t four anymore.

She focused on staring in the direction of their destination instead.

‘Ghosts and demons and monsters aren’t real, Sarah.’

(But water definitely was.)

* * *

**7 HOURS EARLIER**

**DEVILS ISLAND**

**RICHLAND COUNTY**

**MONTANA**

* * *

A dark-haired woman, bruised and bloodied, especially on her left wrist, walked out of the wreckage of a plane, which was still smouldering.

The plane was supposed to fly from Siberia to D.C., but it had made an unscheduled and unplanned landing, courtesy of the package they’d picked up in Siberia.

(At least, unscheduled and unplanned in the CIA’s eyes.)

A man in full camouflage combat gear stirred weakly near her, trying to reach out and grab her ankle, but she simply kicked him in the head, rather hard, knocking him back out.

Harper Hayes strode through the wreckage site and found the man she was looking for.

She grabbed Commander Wheeler and started hauling him away.

She had a job to do.

* * *

**NOW**

**MATTY’S TEAM’S HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…The CIA’s being terrible at sharing _again_. After we informed them of the threat to Byron Wheeler, they neglected to tell us that his team was on a top-secret compartmentalized mission to capture and transport a prisoner from Siberia.’ Matty briefed Cage, Sarah and Viv over sat-phone. ‘They’re only telling us _now_ because the tac-team’s plane, with the prisoner on-board, just went down.’ Matty turned to face the big screen in front of her, which showed a very specific region of Montana. ‘Best analysis puts them near your coordinates.’ Matty’s mouth tightened into a grim line. ‘The CIA says that the identity of the prisoner is need-to-know, and that we _don’t_ need to know. I’m working on changing that, but be on high alert. This seems like too much of a coincidence.’

She got an acknowledgement, an agreement, in response.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Matty turned to Charlie, who was standing beside her, staring at the screen on which they’d been arguing with the CIA (or rather, Matty had been arguing while Charlie stood in kinda-awe and kinda-fear).

Both of them had rather grim expressions on their faces.

Fifteen minutes ago, they’d heard from Sarah, Cage and Viv. They’d spotted signs of the plane wreckage and were investigating.

They hadn’t heard a reply yet.

Lil stuck her head into the war room, shaking her head, expression grim.

‘I can’t reach them.’

Matty’s own expression grew even grimmer and she muttered a curse directed at the CIA under her breath. She looked back up at Charlie.

‘You’re in charge.’ She turned to the blonde woman in the doorway. ‘Lil, task satellites to those coordinates. Find that plane. I’ve got a call to make…’ A little smirk came over her face, the one that many people had learned to fear. ‘…and a visit to an old friend to pay.’

* * *

**PHOENIX JET**

**SOMEWHERE OVER NEVADA**

**ON-ROUTE TO DEVILS ISLAND, RICHLAND COUNTY, MONTANA**

* * *

‘…2 days ago, we uncovered intel that The Organization plans to kidnap Byron Wheeler.’

Jack interrupted Matty, who was briefing them over Riley’s laptop screen.

‘Wait, Byron Wheeler as in the VP’s son?’ Matty nodded, and Jack’s expression turned grim. ‘VP’s son, hell of a bargaining chip.’

Matty raised her brows a bit.

‘Yeah, no need to state the obvious, Jack.’ Matty paused for a moment, then returned to the briefing. ‘I sent Cage, Sarah and Viv to follow the lead.’ Half the screen became occupied with a map of Devils Island. ‘They traced it to Devils Island, Montana.’ Matty’s expression grew grimmer. ‘An hour ago, I lost contact with them.’ Even grimmer expression, with a hint of fiery, leashed anger in her eyes. ‘Nine hours ago, a plane carrying Commander Wheeler’s tac-team and a prisoner crashed on Devils Island.’

A page of data from the plane, its last few transmissions, appeared on the screen, along with a satellite image, which was a little blurry, that showed plane wreckage on Devils Island, and Mac took a half-step closer, bending to stare at the information on Riley’s laptop,

‘The last telemetric reading shows the plane dropped 5000 feet before losing its signal, but the data cuts out right before recording a crash…’ Mac tapped on the screen, his thinking-face on. ‘The plane was in a nosedive when it lost its signal, but I think the pilot was doing that intentionally.’

Bozer made a face of confusion.

‘What are you saying, he wanted to crash faster?’

Mac shook his head.

‘No, Boze, I’m saying he wanted to build up speed so he could use a controlled descent and land on Devils Island.’ Mac pointed at the screen. ‘That landing site was chosen deliberately.’

The implication of that sank through all of them, and their expressions turned stony.

The Organization had wanted that plane, the plane carrying the VP’s son, to crash on Devils Island.

Where Sarah, Cage and Viv had gone, courtesy of intel they’d discovered that The Organization planned to kidnap Commander Wheeler.

It was a trap for Matty’s agents.

Jack ran a hand through his hair.

‘You 100% sure on that, brother? The Organization’s set up a trap on an island named after the Devil?’ Jack gestured to the map. ‘’Cause the place was giving me the heebie-jeebies already, and if The Organization’s got something brewing…’

Mac nodded, a paperclip already in his hands and changing shape.

‘Yes, I’m sure. I can show you the equation if you want…’

Jack was already shaking his head.

‘Well, maybe it ain’t a trap, maybe it’s just a weird coincidence, those happen sometimes, right?’

(He didn’t sound very convinced.)

Mac stared at the ceiling for a moment, doing some math in his head, and then tossed the paperclip down onto the bench by Riley’s laptop.

It was shaped like the Devil’s horns.

‘The odds of this being a coincidence are so small we’re more likely to…’ He shook his head. ‘…get struck by lightning, _twice_ , _and_ win the lottery, all in the _same week,_ Jack.’

On Riley’s laptop, Matty put her hands on her hips.

‘It’s _The Organization_ , Jack. They like their convoluted, staying-one-step-ahead-of-us plans. Do the math.’

Jack made a face.

‘I _hate_ doing math, Matty. I almost failed it in high school!’

Mac raised his hand halfway to his forehead, making a gesture of disbelief.

‘Jack, how did you get into college?’ Then, he shook his head; they needed to get back on topic. There’d be time for mood-lightening bickering later. ‘Matty, who’s the prisoner Commander Wheeler and his team were transporting?’

Matty’s face grew stony and there was a definite flash of anger in her eyes.

‘CIA says it’s need-to-know, and that we _don’t_ need to know. I’m about to go and convince them otherwise. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.’ Matty looked the four of them dead in the eye in turn. ‘Be on high alert. You need to bring your A-games.’

They all nodded seriously.

_I always do my best to bring my A-game._

_But today, I definitely, definitely need to._

_The Organization. An unknown but presumably extremely dangerous prisoner. The VP’s son. A crashed plane. A deserted island. Three missing agents, friends._

_A trap._

_Yeah, definitely need my A-game._

* * *

**RESIDENCE OF A CIA HIGHER-UP**

**(REALLY HIGH HIGHER-UP)**

**LA**

* * *

‘Hey, Bill.’ The white-haired man gave a little start of surprise at the sight of the woman in his darkened living room. ‘Rough day at the office?’

He recovered his composure and his wits, and spoke, briefcase still in hand.

‘Matilda Webber? What are you doing here?’

Matty crossed her arms.

‘I’m trying to rescue the son of the Vice President.’ Well, that wasn’t her only objective, but that was all Bill needed to know. Or all he’d want to know. ‘But for some reason, no one at The Company will tell me a damn thing about this package he was transporting.’ A hint of that fearsome smirk appeared on her face as she pointed at him. ‘That’s where you come in.’

Bill put down his briefcase.

‘Matilda, I can’t tell you anything.’

Matty put her hands on her hips.

‘Did you hear the part about the Vice President, Bill?’

‘This mission is above his clearance and above yours.’

Matty regarded him a moment.

‘I see.’

‘Okay.’

He gestured slightly towards the door.

Matty’s eyes hardened, something a little like hellfire appearing in them.

‘Well, if you’re not scared of him, let’s talk about what you _are_ scared of. You _will_ tell me everything you know about this prisoner, or my next stop is gonna be to the Deputy Director’s house to discuss Mexico City.’ Bill quailed internally, but willed himself to be strong. The threat in Matty’s voice grew stronger, more menacing. ‘Do you remember Mexico City, Bill? Because _I_ do.’ Matty pointed at him, knowing by now that she had him. Bill knew that she did not make idle threats, and he knew as well as she did that Mexico City was a threat. ‘You talk.’ She turned towards his well-appointed liquor cabinet. ‘I’m gonna pour you a drink. You’re gonna need it.’

* * *

**DEVILS ISLAND**

**RICHLAND COUNTY**

**MONTANA**

* * *

Mac, Jack, Riley and Bozer picked their way across the heavily-wooded and uneven terrain, towards the site of the crash.

Jack glanced around, clearly on very high alert. Bozer, too, seemed uneasy.

‘It definitely has a certain atmosphere…’

Jack pointed at the younger man, nodding sagely. Too sagely.

‘Told you guys. It’s only been two days since Halloween. It’s the day after The Day of the Dead. Spirit world and our world are still close together, real close together. They can still reach out and grab us and-’

Mac suddenly stopped in his tracks, held up a hand, silencing Jack, and sniffed the air.

‘Jet fuel. And smoke.’ He took off at a run in the direction they’d been going, and Jack, Bozer and Riley, with a glance at one another (sure, Mac was a couple of different shades of crazy, but he was also almost always right) followed, also at a run. Mac came to a stop on a rise, and they all stopped behind him. He pointed into the distance, towards the site of the plane crash, from where they could all see wisps of smoke, his expression extremely grim. ‘The wreckage should have stopped burning a couple of hours ago.’

Jack put a hand on his forehead to shade his eyes, and squinted at where Mac was pointing, as if hoping to get a better look.

‘You saying something else is on fire, brother?’

Mac shook his head.

‘No, I’m saying the plane, or something very near the plane, blew up…uh…’ He studied what little they could see of the smoke and the plane from this distance closely for a moment. ‘…My best guess is twenty minutes ago.’

A very serious and grim look was exchanged between the four of them, and with Mac in the lead, they all picked up the pace and became even more alert as they headed towards the crash site.

* * *

When they neared the crash site, Jack and Mac glanced at one another, then gestured to Bozer and Riley to be as quiet and stealthy as they could, the hacker and Mac’s best friend nodding seriously in acknowledgement.

Jack drew his gun and took the lead, while Mac brought up the rear, and the four of them started picking their way through the plane parts, the silence almost eerie.

* * *

They rounded a corner, coming nearer to the very charred remains of the cabin, and were suddenly confronted by a gun pointed at them.

Then, Viv, sitting on the ground behind a large piece of wreckage that mostly concealed her from view, recognized them and relaxed, putting down her weapon.

‘Hi.’ She gestured at the still-smoking cabin and raised her brows very wryly. ‘We’d have called, but our sat-phone’s out of service and…’ She held up her mobile phone. ‘…Cell service is non-existent here.’ She held up a damaged ear-wig. ‘Explosion blew our comms too; we’ve had one of _those_ days.’

Her voice was rather dry and her expression wry.

Mac crouched down beside her (her ankle was clearly dislocated, foot bent at an unnatural angle, and coupled with the facts that she and her clothes were a bit singed and sooty, she was decorated with scratches and bruises, and that she was alone near the plane’s cabin, which had clearly exploded sometime well after the crash…well, that was concerning, to say the least), as Jack, after glancing around for a moment, looked down at her, serious and very concerned.

‘Sarah? Cage?’

Viv pointed past the destroyed plane cabin.

‘They found a blood trail, probably one person dragging another, both bleeding, and followed it.’

Bozer, Riley, Jack and Mac all exchanged a glance, part-relief (because, at least, last time Viv had seen them, Sarah and Cage must have been relatively okay), part-knowing (they could all imagine Viv channelling her aunt and ordering Sarah and Cage to go on without her to complete their mission), and part-worry.

Mac slipped off his messenger bag, and pulled out a roll of gauze (he could have improvised something, but Beth had influenced what he’d decided to pack with him, and he figured that he might as well use the gauze, since he had it). He took out his Swiss Army knife and pulled out the scissors attachment, made a slit in Viv’s trousers, then grabbed couple of sticks from the ground, cut them down to size, and got to work strapping and splinting her ankle.

Meanwhile, Viv explained what had happened, gesturing to the burnt-out wreck of the cabin beside them.

‘We found the wreck, lots of debris, no people. We went inside to investigate, and…’ Viv closed her eyes for just a fraction of a second as Mac pulled the strapping tight, apologizing as he did so. ‘…the console was booby-trapped to spark and ignite a pool of jet fuel when we moved a chair.’ She looked up at them, expression cold and business-like, with just a hint of anger and worry, much like one worn often by their boss. ‘We found a pair of broken handcuffs on-board. Their prisoner moved all the tac-team members and rigged the plane to explode, as a trap for us.’

Mac, Jack, Riley and Bozer exchanged another glance.

_Today is just one of those days that just keeps getting worse and worse._

_It’ll have to hit rock bottom eventually…_

_And then the only way is up._

Mac got up, looking around for something suitable to make into a crutch for Viv, speaking as he did so.

‘Yeah, and whoever they are, they crashed the plane deliberately into this island too.’

Viv swore under her breath.

Jack gave a weak snort.

‘Yeah, amen to that, sister.’

Mac finished his makeshift crutch, which was mostly made out of some unidentified piece of airplane, and he and Riley helped Viv up, Matty’s field analyst supporting her weight on Riley and the crutch.

Mac and Jack glanced at each other, then looked at Viv, Bozer and Riley, then in the direction where Viv had indicated that Sarah and Cage had gone.

Then, they looked back at each other and seemed to come to a decision. It was Jack who spoke.

‘We gotta get the three of you back to the mainland-‘ That triggered immediate protests. ‘-Hey, hey, hear me out! We’ve got a really, really dangerous hostile here, and you guys can watch our backs on your computers and satellites just as well from there.’

Both Riley and Bozer had angrily crossed their arms, but Viv, even though Jack was quite sure she was seething on the inside, seemed to agree with the wisdom of this course of action.

Mac, when Bozer and Riley glared at him, just shook his head, serious and refusing to give in.

_In hindsight, maybe they should never have come with us. Maybe we should have dropped them off on the mainland, or at least left them in the jet._

_I know, I know, Bozer and Riley are Phoenix agents too._

_They’re good people._

_They’re brave, and strong, and tough._

_They can defend themselves, Riley especially, but we need her and Bozer watching our backs from a different angle, and as Jack said, they can do that from back on the mainland._

_There’s no point putting all five of us in unnecessary danger._

_And honestly, if this prisoner is as dangerous as I’m thinking…I don’t know if Jack or Sarah or Cage or I could hold our own against them for more than a few minutes…Bozer and Riley, and Viv in her current state…they wouldn’t stand a chance._

Mac pushed that dark thought away, and while Riley and Bozer kept grumbling at Jack, Viv raised her voice a little and pointed in a direction different from where the blood trail led and different from the direction they’d come.

‘Our boat’s that way, about ten minutes’ hike.’ She looked down at her ankle, making a face. ‘Maybe fifteen minutes.’

* * *

Mac had absolutely no idea _what_ , precisely, had set alarm bells off in his head, but something did.

Maybe he’d been primed to think that, due to what had been done to the plane.

Maybe, almost unconsciously, his brain had taken in many, many stimuli, many, many little things about the boat, and processed it very, very quickly.

Maybe it was some kind of sixth sense he’d picked up during his three years in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Maybe it was all three.

(Maybe they were all sort-of the same thing.)

Something was _very, very_ wrong about the boat.

‘Guys, get down!’

They were less than ten feet away from the boat…

He pulled Viv and Riley, whom he’d been walking beside, Riley helping the other woman to walk, behind a convenient boulder, flinging the three of them to the ground, and saw Jack pull Bozer behind a thick tree trunk and to the ground.

And not a moment too soon, because moments later, they heard a deafening boom, and felt the heat of an explosion rush over them.

The five of them raised their heads, all breathing hard, adrenaline rushing through their bloodstreams.

Riley, who was closest, reached out and put a hand on Mac’s shoulder, still staring, a little wide-eyed, at the charred remains of the motorboat not even ten feet away.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, after they’d gotten up and dusted themselves off, as Mac inspected the smouldering remains of the blown-up motorboat (it had been rigged to blow, though detonation was not timed at all; it’d just been rigged so that it’d blow at some point – it was sheer chance that it’d blown when it had), Bozer pointed to a glade of sorts about two hundred feet away, back in the direction of the plane wreckage.

‘Riley, Viv and I should probably set up base camp here. The fire from that explosion makes for an excellent homing beacon. If the tac-team is out there, they would have seen it, and they could head this way to check it out.’ Bozer shrugged. ‘Or to the plane, but…’

He gestured at Viv’s ankle. It was probably better to minimize how much they moved her, and the boat explosion was more recent, so probably made a better homing beacon anyway.

Bozer figured that if he were a super-badass member of a CIA tac-team, he’d go for the most recent explosion, since there were more likely people there more recently and all.

Jack, Mac, Riley and Viv all nodded in agreement, and then Jack spoke.

(Mac, Jack and Viv all debated, briefly, in their minds as to whether it would be better if Bozer, Riley and Viv went to the Phoenix jet and either set up base camp there or flew back to the mainland, but there remained the fact that this was a rescue mission – the substantial amount of time it would take for Mac and Jack to escort them back to the jet was time that reduced the chances of Sarah, Cage and the tac-team surviving the trap -  and the fact that there was a decent chance they’d need the jet, especially since it was now the only way off the island…and because of that, the jet was probably a prime target for the prisoner. They really didn’t want to put the three of them in those cross-hairs.)

‘Me and Mac will go help Sarah and Cage; you guys get on satellite and keep an eye out for…well, anybody, and watch our sixes.’ With a nod, Mac started jogging back towards the plane crash site, and Jack called after him. ‘Woah, hang on!’ Jack reached into his side holster and pulled out one of his back-ups, holding it out to Riley. ‘Here you go, Ri.’

Riley hesitated.

‘Jack…’

She’d kept up her practice with Jack and Thornton on the firing range, and had only improved even more, but…

Jack’s expression softened a little.

‘Deadly escaped prisoner on Devils Island. I’d feel a lot better if it wasn’t just Viv who had heat on her.’ He held it out a little more to her. ‘Go on, take it. You’re ready.’

Riley, after a moment, reached out and took the gun, checking the safety and the magazine, just as Jack had taught her.

‘Thanks, Jack.’

Jack nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder for a moment.

‘You know what to do if you have to.’

Riley swallowed and nodded.

And with that, Jack jogged off to catch up with Mac, who’d paused on a rise about fifty feet away.

Bozer, who’d just finished helping Viv sit down on a convenient log, got up, putting down the case containing the satellite antenna, and put a hand on Riley’s shoulder.

She gave a little smile and put her own hand over his for a second, squeezing gently, before stepping away and starting to set up her rig.

They had a job to do.

* * *

**OUTSIDE AN ABANDONED CONCEALED BUNKER**

**DEVILS ISLAND**

**RICHLAND COUNTY**

**MONTANA**

* * *

‘You’re kidding me.’

Jack stopped in his tracks as he and Mac finished pushing their way through the thick undergrowth (made easier by the fact that at least four people, as best as they could tell – presumably the prisoner, the Commander, Sarah and Cage – had traversed the same path recently), and a faded concrete bunker, half set into the ground, came into view.

Mac, ignoring Jack’s protests, stepped forward to get a better view, examining the weathered concrete and the lichen and moss growing on it with a more keen, interested eye than Jack ever thought anybody could have for fuzzy green stuff covering concrete, until he’d met Mac.

‘I’d say this is a Cold War military installation. A _highly classified_ Cold War military installation.’

Riley’s voice rang out over his and Jack’s comms.

‘Well, that explains why I can’t find a single record of any structures on this island, military or otherwise, anywhere, Mac…all records of it are probably hard-copy only.’

Jack eyed the bunker with great distaste.

‘Okay, brother, we need to agree on something right now. At some point, you’re probably gonna say _let’s split up,_ and it’s gonna sound like a great idea at the time, but believe me, it’s not. ‘Cause right after any group in any horror movie says _let’s split up,_ it’s always the handsome jock who’s the first one to get horribly butchered by whatever ghoul’s lurking in the shadows.’

Mac shook his head, and clapped Jack comfortingly on the shoulder.

‘We’re absolutely not splitting up, Jack.’ Then, he stepped forward, pulling his flashlight out of his bag (it was far better than the one in his Swiss Army knife), and gave a half-smirk. ‘And, hey, as for your other concern, don’t lose any sleep. You’re not that handsome.’

Jack looked extremely affronted as he jogged into the bunker after Mac.

‘ _What do you mean_ I’m not that handsome? Are you factoring in _charm_ , dude? Charm goes a long way, man!’

_My grandfather was in firm agreeance with Jack on the matter of charm._

_He also always said I had it in spades, just a slightly different kind than most people._

_I remain pretty unconvinced, but honestly, I don’t really care anymore._

_I’ve got incredible friends and an incredible girlfriend, my family, who love me just as I am, charming or not._

_I’ve got what matters; charm isn’t one of those things._

_It doesn’t really matter._

_Just like our little debate about Jack’s relative handsomeness doesn’t really matter either._

_All that really matters is that little bit of light in the darkness that it brings us._

* * *

‘…Thanks to Matty, we now have a name for the prisoner. Our mystery prisoner is Harper Hayes, former top operative for the CIA’s Special Activities Division, now turned traitor.’

Riley’s voice sounded out over Mac and Jack’s comms, then Bozer chipped in.

‘And Riley found a _ton_ of records showing her working with terrorists, mercs, arms dealers, you name it.’

Mac and Jack exchanged a glance, and Mac spoke.

‘Well, no wonder the CIA is so interested in getting her back.’ Mac raised his brows. ‘And keeping this _really_ quiet.’

Bozer responded.

‘Be careful, guys. People have been trying to kill this woman for years.’

Riley continued.

‘Hayes has a history of patching herself up with black market surgeries. She’s got a cobalt chrome knee, a titanium rotor cuff, and a steel plate in her head. This chick is nearly half-metal.’

* * *

‘…Seriously, man, don’t tell me this place ain’t giving you the heebie-jeebies too! Trust me, Mac, this ain’t a job for us, it’s a job for the Ghostbusters!’

Mac rolled his eyes as they walked along the deserted, dark corridor.

_Am I enjoying walking through an old, dank, dark military base with a very dangerous woman on the loose?_

_Of course not._

_I’m not that kind of crazy._

_But this is definitely not a job for the Ghostbusters and their proton packs._

_Trust me, don’t get me started on the proton packs…_

‘There’s no such thing as ghosts, Jack.’ Jack made a sound of disbelief, and Mac sighed, voice softening a little. ‘Think happy thoughts, Jack. That should help.’

(He knew that Jack was playing this up to lighten the mood, but also that deep down, Jack _did_ believe in such things as ghosts and curses and jinxes, and as a result, this was probably scaring him more than Mac.)

Jack nodded, and started muttering under his breath.

‘Cowboys winning the Superbowl. Cowboys winning the Superbowl…’

Mac gave a little snort of laughter, shaking his head affectionately, as they kept walking.

* * *

‘…Mac, man...look at this...’

Jack pointed to the helmet and bullet-proof vest, both camouflage-patterned, resting on a tarp laid out along one half of the room. There was a bit of blood on both, and a little smeared on the tarp, as if an injured member of the tac-team had sat there to patch themselves up, perhaps. Mac glanced at it, taking in that information, then his eyes started darting around the room.

The room was clean. _Too_ clean.

Almost free of dust, as if someone had been in here and dusted it to prevent there being a visible trail (they’d managed to track a person or persons – they had no idea _who_ , unfortunately - to this room, simply by using Jack’s AMOS skills and the patterns left in upset dust), prevent there being any visible signs of, well, _anything_.

‘Jack, stop! Now!’

Mac held out a hand as he called out, and his partner obediently stopped in his tracks, from where he’d just been about to step on the tarp to pick up the vest and helmet.

Mac inched forward carefully and flung the tarp off the floor.

Revealing a large hole, with a deep drop, the tarp and the vest and helmet supported by only a couple of strategically-placed planks of wood.

Jack glanced over at his partner, eyes a little wide (he’d almost fallen down that…would have, if not for Mac), and Mac just nodded grimly.

* * *

Mac, his flashlight in hand, peered down the 20-foot drop, ignoring that prickle of fear it brought (20 feet wasn’t really that high, but it was high enough to do it for him).

‘There’s debris down there; at least one person fell for the trap before we got here.’ He glanced at Jack, looking and feeling distinctly uneasy. ‘Hayes must have re-set it.’

Jack’s mouth tightened into a line, and he bellowed into the hole in the floor.

‘Sarah? Sarah!’ He swung his flashlight around, illuminating the various punching dummies down there. ‘Sarah? Cage? Cage!’ The light of the flashlight did another circuit. ‘Sarah!’

Mac reached out and put a hand on Jack’s arm.

‘We’ll find her, Jack, and Cage too.’ Mac got up, with one last glance at the hole in the floor. ‘We need to find another way into the basement.’

Jack did his best to give a teasing smirk.

‘Not planning on using that convenient opening, brother?’

He gestured at the hole. Mac gave a snort.

‘Well, I would if I had some decent rope, or some bedsheets, or a trampoline, or a mattress frame…’

* * *

Rounding a corner in the basement, both of them moving as stealthily as they could (Mac was a little better than Jack, being more agile and lighter), Jack and Mac literally collided with a figure.

Jack and the figure wrestled for a few seconds, before they both recognized one another, and sagged against opposite sides of the corridor, Jack reaching out and putting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

‘You okay? We saw you fell like a thousand feet…’

Mac shook his head wryly.

‘Yeah, give or take 980…’

Jack’s former partner nodded.

‘I’m fine.’ She paused for a moment, face growing concerned. ‘Where’s Cage?’

Jack and Mac glanced at one another, their own expressions very concerned.

‘She’s not with you?’

Sarah shook her head.

‘We were tracking the prisoner, working off the assumption that they’d taken Commander Wheeler hostage. We found that room, I fell into the trap, but Cage didn’t. She was supposed to wait up there for me.’

As Sarah spoke, they could already tell that she’d come to the same conclusion that they had, and that it worried her greatly, as it did them.

‘Hayes-‘

‘That’s the prisoner’s name, Sarah, she’s real badass and just real plain _bad_ -‘

‘-re-set the trap, and took Cage.’ Mac started glancing around; they appeared to be in a storage room of sorts. ‘We have to find her and Wheeler, and catch Hayes.’ His _I’ve-got-an-idea_ face appeared. Internally, Jack rejoiced a little, he and Sarah sharing a tiny smile, both having witnessed what Mac could pull off, the seeming-miracles that resulted from that expression appearing on the blonde’s face. ‘Jack, I need that old radar monitor. Sarah, can you grab me one of those cans of corn?’

Jack made a face as he busied himself doing as Mac ordered, as did Sarah, and rather comically, they both spoke at the same time.

‘This little plan doesn’t involve me putting away a 50-year-old can of corn, does it?’

‘Are we going to have to eat the corn, or…?’

Mac couldn’t help but give an amused little half-chuckle, despite the fact that there was a highly dangerous trained killer on the loose, Cage was gone and The Organization was behind all of this, which automatically meant it had to be terrible, dangerous and generally unpleasant. He shook his head.

‘No, I just need the can, not the corn.’ He gestured to Jack and Sarah as he pulled open the can of corn that Sarah had tossed him. ‘So have at it if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend it.’ He tipped the contents of the can of corn (which looked very unappetizing) into a convenient old bowl. ‘And if you do have at it, you’ve got to tell Beth I warned you against it.’

* * *

A little while later, Mac had what looked like an old-school TV on a chair, Jack and Sarah standing in front of him.

‘If Cage and Wheeler are down here…’ They all knew it was more than likely that Cage and Wheeler were being kept down here, while Hayes readied yet another trap for them. ‘…We should be able to see their heat signatures on this.’

Both Jack and Sarah’s eyebrows rose a little, and Jack started moving around, flapping his arms, then watched as one of the two figures on the screen did the same.

‘Is that me?’ Sarah’s response to his rather stupid question and even sillier behaviour was to punch him none-too-gently in the arm, an action mirrored by the second figure on the screen. Jack winced and rubbed his arm, addressing his current partner instead. ‘Did you just make a 1960s thermal camera?’ Mac simply nodded, and Jack reached out and clapped him on the back as they started walking, Mac pushing the chair along. ‘Your brain is all swell, man. That is definitely cool.’ Then, after a moment, Jack gave a little chuckle, grin widening. ‘Hey, you know what would be even cooler? A proton pack. And way more useful, too, man.’ He pointed at Mac. ‘You think you could whip up one of those real quick?’

Sarah gave a little smirk, nodding in agreement, and Mac shot his partner a long-suffering look, which promised, in Jack’s eyes, a very long lecture later that he would only understand about half of, despite Mac’s great Mr-MacGyver’s-Science-Class skills, about how proton packs were complete bunkum.

He gestured at Mac’s thermal camera. Best to head it off at the pass.

(Jack loved Mac dearly, but half the time, the science lectures were just too much for him.)

‘This…this is great. I…I love this.’

* * *

‘Here, I got something.’

Mac pointed at the door that said ‘infirmary’.

‘Through that door?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Hang on just a sec.’

Jack and Sarah exchanged a glance, then got into position in front of the door, Jack to the side with his hand on the handle, gun in his other hand, and Sarah standing before it, her gun at the ready.

With a silent countdown, Jack flung open the door, and Sarah entered the room, gun poised to shoot, Jack following right behind her, then Mac behind him.

The room seemed devoid of all life, with just a heap of old metal-framed beds, and a large tank-like object in the middle of the room.

Jack and Sarah warily lowered their guns, then Jack gestured with his head towards the tank.

‘What the hell is this thing? A time machine?’

Mac shook his head with a snort.

‘No, it’s a hyperbaric chamber.’

Jack looked just as confused, as did Sarah, though her expression was not as nearly as exaggerated as Jack’s.

‘For what?’

‘They must have been doing dive training; this would have been to help the divers out with decompression sickness.’

There was a clunking sound, right then, from inside the chamber. Then another.

They all rushed towards it, and Mac stood up on his toes to look into the glass window in the door.

‘Mac!’

A familiar face was on the other side.

‘Cage?’

She was shackled inside, suspended from the ceiling of the chamber.

‘Get me out.’

Jack and Sarah exchanged a glance, taking over talking to Cage as Mac knelt to examine the lock.

‘Yeah, we will.’

‘Mac’s on it.’

Mac made a noise of frustration.

‘The keyhole’s been filled with some sort of plaster; the tumblers won’t budge.’

Jack glanced down at his partner, as Sarah kept talking to Cage.

‘Can we cut off the hinges?’

Mac shook his head grimly.

‘No, it would take me hours to cut through with my knife.’

Cage’s voice, a little muffled by the tank, cut through the air again, a distinct undercurrent of panic to it, something very different from her usual calm-cool-and-composed.

‘Oh, my God. The tank’s filling with water.’

‘What? How?’

‘How is that even possible?’

Mac swore under his breath as he inspected the top of the hyperbaric chamber.

‘Because Hayes spot-welded a water pipe to the air intake.’

He jumped off the ladder to talk to Jack and Sarah, voice quiet.

‘She’s got about 5 minutes before this whole thing is filled with water.’

Jack and Sarah exchanged a glance, stepping away from the tank and taking Mac with them for a moment, Jack speaking.

‘This is a Special Forces tactic.’

‘What do you mean?’

Jack and Sarah exchanged another glance, and Sarah spoke.

‘Wound an enemy force, then the whole team has to take care of the injured soldier.’

Mac’s expression turned stonier.

‘Slow us down.’

The two older agents nodded.

‘Exactly.’

‘She’s a distraction?’

Mac did not sound happy about that in the slightest, which didn’t surprise Jack (or Sarah) at all.

(Mac hated killing people. He treated all human life – even scum like Murdoc - as important and worthy of protecting, conserving. He, of course, would hate the idea of using somebody’s life as a distraction.)

‘Unfortunately, brother.’

Sarah continued.

‘My guess is that Hayes is gonna grab Wheeler, steal your plane and disappear forever, or set up something even bigger than what she’s tried so far to take us all out.’

They all knew that she’d planned to kill Viv, Sarah and Cage (had been hired by The Organization to do so); that was why she hadn’t simply taken their boat and fled. She’d certainly tried very hard and come pretty damn close to her goal, and there was a pretty good chance she’d have succeeded if Mac, Jack, Bozer and Riley hadn’t arrived, throwing a wrench in her plans.

(At least, they hoped that that was what they were doing, that this wasn’t part of an even bigger plot, an even bigger trap.)

(You could never know when The Organization was involved.)

Jack sighed.

‘VP’s son is a hell of a bargaining chip to have. She could probably get herself protection from even The Organization.’ The Organization would, of course, not be happy that she had failed, and they’d all seen how quickly The Organization discarded its assets if they were no longer useful. Jack held up his hands. ‘That’s all I’m saying.’

Mac nodded, and gestured at Sarah and Jack.

‘Go find Hayes. Don’t let her get off this island.’

Jack and Sarah gestured at Cage, Sarah speaking.

‘What about Cage?’

Sarah sounded very concerned, as would be expected; Cage was her teammate, and a close friend, now.

Mac’s brain was already ticking into overdrive, assessing what he had and what he could do to save her.

‘I’m not going to let her die. I’m going to get her out. Promise.’

Jack and Sarah nodded, Sarah stepping forward to talk to her teammate briefly.

‘Hey, Sam? I’ll see you soon!’

From behind his former partner, Jack nodded.

‘We’ll see you soon, real soon.’

Mac indicated the door, already starting to work on his improvised captive bolt gun.

(He did not like having to use something like this, didn’t like the risk to Cage associated with it, but it was the best he could come up with what he had in the time that he had.)

‘Jack, Sarah, go get her.’ He glanced at Cage. ‘We’ll be right behind you.’

‘Yes, sir!’

* * *

‘Riley, you got eyes on this she-devil?’

Jack and Sarah made their way out of the bunker.

‘Yeah, I do indeed. She’s heading north at a dead sprint.’

Jack and Sarah took off north, also at a dead sprint.

‘She’s about 100 yards ahead of you, straight ahead…’

* * *

Bozer, brow furrowed, pointed at a large red mass on the screen in front of them.

‘What’s that?’

Viv shifted a little along her log for a closer look, while Riley shook her head.

‘I don’t know.’

Bozer let out a low whistle.

‘Whatever it is, it’s giving off a lot of heat.’

Viv studied it for a moment.

‘I’d say it was an engine of some kind, but everything on this island’s been shut down for years…’

Riley glanced between the object and her two companions.

‘Yeah, so what the hell is it?’

Viv looked them both dead in the eye, after inspecting the object for a moment longer.

‘Go find out.’

Bozer and Riley glanced at each other, than at the other young woman.

Viv held up her gun, something very cool and stony in her eyes, something full of duty. A strong will holding back all fear, something that made it very clear just who her aunt was.

‘I can look after myself. Go.’

That was unmistakeably an order.

Riley and Bozer glanced at one another once more, then nodded, Bozer picking up Riley’s precious rig as if it were his baby too, not just hers, and Riley checking Jack’s gun, then putting a hand on Viv’s shoulder for a moment.

The other dark-haired woman just gave a little nod, then Riley withdrew her hand, and she and Bozer headed out of the glade.

* * *

‘Mac! Whatever you’re going to do, just do it fast.’

Cage definitely sounded panicked.

That worried Mac immensely, because Cage, as far as he knew, was not one to panic, not at all.

This was a woman, he’d heard, who’d never flinched under fire, both the literal fire kind, and the people-trying-to-put-bullet-holes-in-you kind.

This was a woman who’d taken down four men all bigger than her who were also armed with semi-automatics alone in Syria on an unsanctioned mission.

He worked as fast as he could, hands still moving as he moved into view of the window, addressing her, trying to calm her down.

He forced himself to sound teasing, joking.

‘Don’t get too comfy in there, Cage, you’re leaving soon, alright?’

There was a clunking sound, and then she spoke again, voice sounding soft and scared and vulnerable.

‘ _Drowning_. I’m…I’m afraid of drowning, Mac.’ That sounded very much like a confession, one that she’d probably never made to anybody else, in his opinion (though he was no behavioural expert). One that she’d never have made to him if it weren’t for her current situation. ‘I fell into a neighbour’s pool when I was four and I’ve been afraid of water ever since. I don’t even like going to the beach…’

She made a sound that was half-hysterical-laugh, half-strangled-sob.

Mac looked up at her again.

‘I’m going to get you out of there, I promise.’ He put the last finishing touches on his work, and inspected it quickly (he couldn’t make a mistake, not on this, not with what was at stake), and nodded, then held it up so that Cage could see it. ‘This is a captive bolt gun. It should bust the glass.’

Cage nodded, stretching up to avoid the rising water as best as she could.

(She wasn’t really succeeding.)

‘Do it.’ She gasped. ‘Do it now.’

Mac raised the bolt gun.

‘The problem is, this could also shatter your skull. Any chance you can move back?’

Cage shifted as best as she could, which wasn’t far, but Mac knew it wasn’t going to get any better than this.

He aimed and pulled the trigger.

The glass shattered, water flowing out, and Cage spluttered, coughing.

Mac tossed the used captive bolt gun aside, and a paperclip in hand, reached through the broken window to free Cage’s hands from the cuffs.

The moment her hands were freed, Cage gestured with her head at the door that Jack and Sarah had run through.

‘Go, help Sarah and Jack! I’ll be fine.’

She sounded remarkably calm again, considering what she’d just been through. Mac could only hear the tiniest hint of that deep-seated fear in her voice, and he doubted he’d have been able to pick it up if he’d not known about her phobia, if he hadn’t seen her panicking just then.

So, after one last glance at her (she responded by simply gesturing more firmly at the door with her head, rubbing her wrists at the same time), Mac ran out the door.

* * *

‘…Jack, she should be right in front of you…’

Riley’s voice rang out over Jack’s comm, just as he and Sarah saw a figure in the darkness, nearing a cliff with a steep drop into the water below, and with a quick glance at each other, tackled the figure, rolling it over.

They both started a little in surprise.

‘Commander Wheeler?’

The man wheezed.

‘Watch out. She used me to draw you out, she’s planning…’

He wheezed again, clearly weak.

‘Hey, hey, hey…where is she?’

Wheeler tried to take a deep breath to speak, to respond to Jack’s question, but was interrupted when a figure suddenly appeared, catching both Jack and Sarah off-guard, a _very_ difficult thing to do.

* * *

The two of them fought Hayes as best as they could, but weren’t able to recover from their disadvantage, and soon, both of them were hanging off the side of the cliff. 

Hayes smirked darkly at the two of them, voice menacing and a little deranged.

She kicked Sarah’s arm hard first, then stepped on her other hand, forcing her to let go.

Jack’s eyes followed her as she fell, distinct fear and panic and worry in them.

‘Sarah!’

Hayes’ smirk widened and she addressed Jack darkly, yelling as if to make sure her message reached Sarah too.

‘If you make me come down there, I’m just gonna kill you a lot slower! You hear me?’

She kicked Jack hard in the chest, sending him falling too.

She leaned over and inspected the bottom of the cliff.

‘Guess I’m not going down the cliff after all.’ Then, Hayes turned her attention to the weakly-moving Commander Wheeler, who was attempting to crawl away on his bound hands and knees. Hayes reached out and caught him with her leg, using more force than necessary, making the man groan in pain. ‘Can’t have you wandering off, Commander.’

* * *

‘Jack!’

Riley stopped and cried out, having heard the whole thing over her comms, and Bozer, right behind her and clutching her precious laptop, put a hand on her shoulder.

‘Hey, hey, Jack and Sarah are really badass badasses, they’re gonna be fine, Riley. They’re gonna be fine.’ He squeezed her shoulder gently, and after a moment and a deep breath, Riley nodded slowly, regaining her composure. They had a job to do. Jack would be okay. He _had_ to be okay. Bozer continued, pointing at the laptop screen. ‘Okay, whatever it is, it’s right past these trees…’

They stepped past the screen of trees, and found a whole host of men in camouflage gear, hands bound, huddled together and looking disorientated in the light from Bozer’s flashlight.

Bozer and Riley exchanged a glance.

‘That’s the rest of the tac-team.’

‘She dragged them here and left them for dead.’

With another glance at each other, Riley and Bozer got to work undoing the bonds around the men’s wrists.

* * *

Hayes stalked into the warehouse that she’d seen Jack and Sarah running into, a gun in each hand.

‘You survived that fall. I’m impressed! How about I make you a deal? You let me take your plane and fly away quietly with Commander Wheeler, and I won’t paint the walls with your blood.’

Jack and Sarah glanced at each other. Sarah rolled her eyes (bad guys were always _so_ dramatic), which made Jack give the tiniest of smiles, despite the blood leaking from his shoulder. He spoke.

‘Counter offer: Wheeler stays with us, and you take off. We’ll, uh, see if we can cut you a deal with the CIA.’

After he’d finished speaking, he and Sarah ducked quickly behind the next crate, slowly making their way towards the door at the end of the warehouse.

‘Sorry. No can do. I kinda need Wheeler if I’m going to put him up for auction. I got a lot of…we’ll call them friends, who’d pay me good money to get their hands on a vice president’s son.’ Hayes paused. ‘I’m gonna need that cash, since I didn’t quite manage to finish off the job I was paid to do…though, one of out of three, or, well, it’s looking like it might be two, actually, isn’t bad.’

Clearly, she thought Cage was dead, and that Sarah would probably wind up dead too.

Sarah spoke, wincing as she did so (she had a very nasty bruise along her jaw and part of her neck), but hiding it admirably well. It didn’t show in her voice.

‘That’s not gonna work…you can’t protect yourself from The Organization, not with all the money in the world.’

Jack continued, after they’d moved to the next crate.

‘Come quietly, and we’ll make sure they don’t put you six feet under, Hayes.’

He and Sarah moved on to the next crate, and then glanced at each other.

There was no more cover between here and the door.

Sarah gave a little smirk, dark-humoured, one that’d gotten Jack through a lot of nasty scrapes back in the day.

‘It’s not over ‘till they’re dead…’

He smirked that same smirk back.

‘…Or you are.’

They ran for the door…only to find it locked. With a glance at one another, they turned around slowly.

Hayes, a gun in each hand aimed at each of their foreheads, smirked, then affected a mock pout.

‘Oh, no.’ The smirk widened. ‘Looks like our little game of hide-and-seek has come to an end.’

Suddenly, her guns were pulled away from her, wrenched out of her hands by an invisible force, and went flying through the air and attached themselves to an old rusty truck.

A second later, Hayes herself was lifted into the air, her arms pulled into an outstretched position, her eyes even rolling into the back of her head.

Then, she too was sent flying into the old truck, landing on the bonnet with a very loud _thump_.

She stayed there, unmoving.

Jack and Sarah exchanged a very shocked glance, still full of adrenaline, and Jack sank to his knees.

‘Oh, great and powerful spirits of the island, thank you for protecting me and my partner.’ Sarah snorted, though she was also looking around, as if trying to see evidence of the spirits that Jack spoke so fervently about. ‘I don’t know why, in your infinite wisdom, you decided I was worthy…’

There was laughter (very familiar, happy, innocent laughter – not the sinister kind), then clapping, and Mac stepped out from behind the rusty old truck, a teasing look on his face, relief in his eyes.

‘A _little_ dramatic.’

‘Mac?’ Jack was still on his knees and staring at his partner. ‘Did…did you develop the powers of a mystical wizard or something?’

Mac shook his head, a motion full of fond exasperation.

‘Oh, no, nothing that cool. Remember how Riley said she was practically half-metal? Which was hyperbole, but not ridiculous hyperbole…’ Sensing that he’d lost both Jack and Sarah, and that he’d kind of gotten off-topic, Mac simply gestured to a giant copper coil joined to the truck. ‘Well, she’s got a lot of metal in her, so I built a big-ass electromagnet.’

That was language that Sarah and Jack would understand, and the details were honestly unimportant; what really mattered was that they were alright. That he’d managed to stop Hayes from…he didn’t even want to think it.

Jack was probably still a bit shocked, because after clasping Mac’s proffered hand, he got shakily to his feet.

‘Oh, really?’

Mac nodded, slipping an arm under Jack’s to support him (he seemed to have taken the worst of it in their fall off the cliff; Sarah seemed more able to stand and walk).

‘Yeah.’ He gave a half-smirk at the older man, very, very relieved that Jack was alive and (relatively) okay. ‘Who’s your boy?’

Jack patted Mac’s back absent-mindedly.

‘You are, man, yeah, you are.’ He shook his head. ‘Boy, I tell you, whatever’s going on in that crazy head of yours is way scarier than Devils Island any day of the week, son.’

Mac shook his head affectionately, glancing at his partner.

‘Are you crying?’

Jack shook his head, though there wasn’t very strong denial in it.

_The notion of it being weak or unmanly to cry is stupid._

_Men have feelings. We also have tear ducts._

_Crying, therefore, happens._

_Still, it takes a lot to make Jack Dalton cry…_

‘No, no, just tired…’

Behind Jack’s head, Sarah and Mac’s eyes met, and the brunette woman simply mouthed _he’s definitely crying_ at Mac, who simply smiled softly, affectionately, and squeezed Jack’s shoulders a little tighter.

Sarah returned Mac’s smile, as the blonde helped his partner towards the entry of the warehouse.

‘Okay. Let’s get you some medical attention…’

* * *

‘…the CIA has a couple of medics and a prisoner transport team on their way, we’re taking joint custody on this one…’ Matty gave a little smirk, and they all wondered exactly what she’d done to the suits at the CIA. ‘…but their ETA is in 2 hours.’

On Riley’s laptop screen, Thornton continued.

‘Doc, Wilson and Gonzales’ team are 20 minutes out from your location.’

Jack, his bleeding shoulder already having been field-dressed by Mac, grinned at his boss, then put his hand over his heart.

‘Patty, you got them in the air once you heard about the exploded plane and the exploded boat, didn’t you? You really do love us…’

Thornton only elegantly quirked an eyebrow slightly, but she also didn’t deny it.

(And Jack knew, he really, really knew, that it was true.)

(All of it.)

* * *

As she was being led away by several armed guards, Mac and Jack strode up to Hayes, who simply smirked at Mac.

‘Cute trick with the magnet.’ She paused, smirk growing wickeder. ‘Did you get your friend out in time, or is she still floating in the tank?’

Cage sauntered up at that moment, dressed in clean, dry scrubs (Beth had brought along a collection of sets in various sizes, with the firm declaration that _a plane crashed, and then it and a boat exploded in the vicinity of several of you and you were all on an island, it was inevitable that somebody was going to wind up with badly singed and/or soaked-through clothes, I’ve been in this business long enough to know that_ ), and drying her hair on a microfiber towel, which had also been in Beth’s bags of medical supplies.

‘Oh, he got me out.’ She eyed off the dark-haired woman. ‘Which is good news for me, bad for you.’ She paused, crossing her arms. ‘’Cause now I owe you one.’

Hayes smirked right back as she was led away.

‘I look forward to you settling up.’

Cage watched her back for a moment, before turning to Mac, as Jack wandered off to chat with Riley, putting his uninjured arm around the hacker’s shoulders for a moment.

‘Thank you, for getting me out.’ She paused for a beat, voice a little softer when she spoke again. ‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share what I told you.’

He nodded firmly.

‘I promise.’ He paused for a moment and gave a little half-shrug. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I’m afraid of heights.’ He paused again, and there was a little smile, soft and fond and a tiny bit lost in a memory on his face when he spoke again. Cage was sure he wasn’t completely conscious of the expression on his face. ‘And someone wise once told me, humans are allowed irrational fears…and that rational fear is perfectly reasonable.’ He gave another slightly-awkward half-shrug. ‘And it seems like yours is pretty reasonable.’

Cage smiled.

‘That does make me feel better.’ She paused. ‘Beth is very good at providing perspective.’

Mac blinked twice.

‘I never said…’ He shook his head with a chuckle. ‘Interrogation expert, right…’

Cage’s smile became more of a teasing smirk, and they made their way back over to the group.

* * *

Sam leaned back a little in her seat on the jet, looking around at the people (her friends) scattered throughout the cabin.

Beth was right.

She, like everyone else on this plane, was human, so they were all allowed irrational fears, or rational fears, fears with reasonable roots that had grown into irrational phobias.

Bozer feared octopi.

Jack was superstitious, and thus feared ghosts and spirits and curses.

Riley feared loss, both suffering it and inflicting it.

Mac was scared of heights, even though she’d heard enough about his exploits to know that he faced his fears head-on.

Beth was scared of flying (Sam had never been told that, but to her, it was obvious from her interactions with Mac on the plane – Beth looked like she was fighting to keep calm, and she’d almost reached for Mac’s hand when they’d taken off, and _he_ still looked like he wanted to take her hand, but they were both holding back because they were at work; Mac had instead decided to distract her by telling her all about his giant electromagnet, which had segued into a discussion about Harper Hayes being half-metal, which had then mushroomed into a conversation about osteo-integration that no-one else could quite follow).

Viv was scared of becoming cold and hard, scared of something happening to cause her to bury her heart beneath stone.

Sarah, Sam was _very_ sure now, was scared of being alone in dark, dank, claustrophobic spaces.

(Sam didn’t know the story behind that, but she was sure it was linked to their line of work.)

(She had a couple of guesses, of course, but if Sarah never wanted to tell the story, Sam would never ask or press.)

(She’d probably find out anyway.)

Sam smiled.

Maybe, just maybe, she should organize a trip to the beach with her friends.

Exposure therapy was a tried and tested method.

And you didn’t need to know plenty of psychology to know that the support of friends made everything just that little bit easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? Was this a good take on 2.05, Skull + Electromagnet? I lifted a fair bit of the dialogue straight from the ep, as well as most of the events, so that’s definitely not something I can take credit for! 
> 
> Devils Island is a real island in Richland County, Montana. As far as I know, there is no top-secret abandoned military base on it! (I may have also completely wrongly depicted the real Devils Island – but I’m pleading creative license!) 
> 
> ‘It’s not over ‘till they’re dead or you are!’ is the catchphrase I invented for Jack and Sarah in the Partners/Not Just a Cover/Geography Lessons AU in _Two Paperclips and a Stick of Gum_. Osteo-integration is a real thing; one of the pioneers in the field is an Australia surgeon, it involves attaching bionic limbs/robotic prostheses directly to amputees’ limbs. 
> 
> Little brag moment – my results for my final semester of uni just came out, and I can say two things: 1. I have passed everything and have officially completed my undergraduate degree! I am thus, shockingly, more officially educationally qualified than Mac. 2. I have achieved my goal of getting straight First Class Honours across all of my subjects – I think that converts to a 4.0 GPA in the US (We use a different system here based on your % score in each subject. My university gives students a GPA that is a % to 3 decimal places.). 
> 
> Next chapter: Home, Sweet, Home. Mac, Jack and Riley return home after five long days of saving the world (again), to find that the home fires have definitely been kept burning. Or, in which Jack’s love is easily won through breakfast food. ‘If you guys ever break up, I’m keeping them.’


	18. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac, Jack and Riley return home after five long days of saving the world (again), to find that the home fires have definitely been kept burning. 
> 
> Or, in which Jack’s love is easily won through breakfast food. 
> 
> _‘If you guys ever break up, I’m keeping them.’_

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

As Mac, Jack and Riley, all exhausted after being away for five days on a mission, followed by a marathon six-hour debrief (it’d been one of _those_ missions), not counting the quizzing on the flight home that Thornton had put them through (so that Oversight would be less bothersome when they finally got home), reached the front steps, the front door opened, revealing Beth and Bozer on the other side and sending a delicious smell emanating through the air.

Jack smiled, instantly feeling a little more energised, a little lighter, and he closed the door behind them as Mac and Riley reached out to greet their respective significant others (Bozer had popped down to the infirmary while Beth was checking them over, but being at work didn’t allow for a _proper_ welcome home). He sniffed the air (it smelled like breakfast, despite the fact that it was 6 pm, which Jack did not mind in the slightest, as breakfast food was definitely the best kind of food), and then crossed his arms and groused good-naturedly, as Mac reached out to fist-bump Bozer, who pulled his BFF into a hug that involved back-slapping, while Riley and her own roommate shared a side-hug.

‘Way to make a guy feel like a fifth wheel.’

His four younger friends/kind-of surrogate children all exchanged a look, an assortment of mischievous grins and smirks on their faces, ranging in degree of mischief (Beth’s the least, Riley’s the most, closely followed by Mac).

Then, Jack was tackled (quite literally) into a group hug by all four of them.

When he could breathe properly again, he kept grousing, shaking his head, fondly and exasperatedly.

‘Really? Just pounce and try and squeeze all the life out of me?’ Jack gestured to himself. ‘I ain’t quite a spring chicken anymore; I need to be handled gently!’

That was greeted with raised brows and snorts of laughter, as they all moved towards the kitchen, towards that delicious smell of breakfast. Riley socked Jack lightly in the arm.

‘So, admitting you’re getting old, old man?’

* * *

As he dug heartily into their breakfast/dinner (breakfast bruschetta on whole-wheat bread, and baked eggs, fresh and warm from the oven and full of protein – a hearty and healthy meal, perfect for three newly-home secret agents), Jack pointed at Mac and Riley with his spoon, then at Beth and Bozer, then back at Mac and Riley.

‘If you guys ever break up, I’m keeping them.’ He took another bite and spoke with his mouth half-full. ‘You two can find a new family.’

There were more quirked eyebrows and snorts of laughter and fond head-shakes, and then Bozer grinned, a little smugly.

‘Way to the heart’s really through the stomach.’

Riley jerked her thumb at Jack.

‘Yeah, especially his.’

Bozer made a face and pointed at Jack.

‘Though, you’ve got like _no_ standards, man. I mean, New York, Chicago, Naples…and you say the world’s best pizza comes from that Skeeball place!’

Jack looked affronted, swallowed his large mouthful of food (once upon a time, Beth had been concerned that one day, Jack would choke, but it seemed that he was somehow adapted to scarfing down large mouthfuls, so would be fine), and pointed right back at Bozer, puffing his chest out a bit.

‘Hey, man, you can’t say that about my favourite pizza place! It’s the grease that gives it its charm, Boze!’

The other four made faces of revulsion (they willingly ate pizza with Jack there – and played Skeeball – since it held special memories for both him and Riley, but they were all in agreeance that the pizza was _dreadful_ ), but Mac reached out and clapped his partner on the back anyway.

‘Each to their own, Jack, each to their own.’

* * *

A little while later, breakfast/dinner finished, Jack stretched out on one of the deck chairs, watching the sun set over LA.

Beth was leaning on the side of Jack’s chair’s legs, using them as a backrest, her legs stretched out in front of her. Mac lay with his head in her lap, his legs stretched out in front of him, while Riley was sitting with one leg stretched out and one drawn up, resting an elbow on her raised knee, facing her roommate and leaning against Patricia’s chair (she’d shown up fifteen minutes ago, having spent far too long dealing with Oversight, and was now tucking in to the plate that had been saved for her and kept warm in the oven with almost as much enthusiasm as she’d had for Mrs Patel’s samosas). Bozer was lying beside his girlfriend, their sides touching, with his head pillowed on his woven-together hands, using Mac’s shins as a foot rest.

Jack sighed with satisfaction and contentment, glancing down at his partner for a moment.

That same satisfied, contented expression was on Mac’s face, and with a smile, Mac reached up to bump his fist against Jack’s.

* * *

_This, right here?_

_This is home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that was completely and utterly pointless. I know. But look! *points dramatically* Team-as-Family fluff! 
> 
> I just realized why there’s no episode this week – it’s Thanksgiving weekend! Happy belated Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it! 
> 
> Next chapter: Red Noses, Red Faces. When a mission in Finland goes south, Mac and Jack are forced to go home while still dressed as Sami reindeer herders. That has the expected consequences. ‘We are gonna have so much fun with those photos.’


	19. Red Noses, Red Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a mission in Finland goes south, Mac and Jack are forced to go home while still dressed as Sami reindeer herders. That has the expected consequences. 
> 
> _‘We are gonna have so much fun with those photos.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is heavily inspired by the opening of 2.06, Jet Engine + Pickup Truck. It also doesn’t really have a point, beyond being amusing and fluffy (hopefully).

**PHOENIX JET**

**SOMEWHERE OVER GERMANY**

**ON-ROUTE TO LA**

* * *

‘…brother, we’re _really_ gonna have to go home like _this_?’

Jack gestured to their admittedly _eclectic_ outfits.

Mac sighed, swallowing his mouthful of muesli bar.

‘ _Yes_ , Jack. We don’t have any other clothes.’

(He knew that Jack knew that…he was just being Jack.)

Jack made a face.

‘Come on, man! You were so busy making that lightsabre you couldn’t even think of a plan that let us double back to grab our clothes?’

Mac covered his forehead with a hand, flopping back a little in his seat, then looking back up at Jack, a rather long-suffering expression on his face.

‘I was _far_ too busy making a high-powered laser torch to prevent us from _getting killed_ …or _worse_ , Jack.’

Jack made a huffing sound, like he knew Mac was right but was still in a _mood._

_To be fair, I don’t blame him._

_I’m not looking forward to heading back to the Phoenix in this outfit either._

_Look, nothing against the Sami people, honestly, they sound pretty cool, but their traditional clothing is…well, certainly eye-catching. I’m sure we’d be considered very stylish if we were actually Sami reindeer herders, but we’re definitely, definitely not, so…_

_But there’s nothing that can be done, and there’s nothing that could have been done either, so it’s not worth crying over spilt milk, as my grandfather would have said._

Jack huffed again, gesturing to the medical kit, which had been opened and rummaged through (Mac and Jack were both sipping cups of chamomile tea, which Beth always made sure she packed for missions to anywhere cold, something they were all very grateful for).

‘And Doc didn’t pack us a change of clothes?’

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose and sipped some tea. He glanced at the half-eaten muesli bar in his left hand. If Jack’s complaining and grousing kept up the whole flight home (and that was definitely what he was doing - it was obvious that there were no clothes in the medical kit, besides, he knew Jack knew that Beth wouldn’t have had the foresight to pack _that_ – that, Mac thought, was probably a good thing; a psychic girlfriend would probably be too much for him to handle), he was going to be tempted, eventually, to throw the muesli bar at his partner.

(Which Jack would dodge and which would start some kind of sort-of food fight, which would at least keep them amused on the long flight home…)

‘ _No,_ Jack, she didn’t.’

Jack huffed yet again, crossing his arms.

‘You sure, brother? ‘Cause she always comes through for us, man!’

Mac sipped his tea again, rolling his eyes.

‘Yes, Jack, I’m sure.’ He sipped his tea again, gesturing at the medical kit. ‘Beth is amazing, but she’s not clairvoyant, and she’s not magic.’

Jack sipped his own tea and pointed at Mac.

‘Gonna tell her you said that, man. Fair warning.’

Mac shook his head again, now with a little smile.

‘Go ahead, Jack.’

_Of course I know there’s some things one should never, ever say about one’s girlfriend._

_But ‘not magic’ and ‘not clairvoyant’ aren’t two of those things._

Then, after a moment, an idea hit him, and the blonde reached into the medical kit and pulled out a roll of gauze, raising an eyebrow at Jack with a smirk, gesturing to the roll of gauze with his head.

‘If you’re _that_ desperate to get out of that outfit, I could probably improvise some kind of loincloth for you to wear…’

Jack swallowed and shook his head, making a face and holding up his hands.

‘Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick with this reindeer outfit, man…’

Mac nodded sagely. Too sagely.

‘Good choice.’

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘Nothing to see here, man! Just go back to work, people, nothing to see here! Hey, man, is that a camera? Like an _actual_ camera? Who uses those things now?’ Jack pointed at a young man with wild blonde curls. ‘You better delete that photo, or I’m gonna whoop your ass, Walter!’

Mac sighed, shaking his head, as he followed his rather worked-up partner through the Phoenix, towards the infirmary.

* * *

Riley, who’d just greeted Jack with a side-hug, leaned over to Bozer with a mischievous smirk as Jack and Mac continued to the infirmary.

‘You got it?’

Bozer looked mildly affronted as he held out his phone, the camera roll on the screen, to his girlfriend.

There was a whole series of pictures of Mac-and-Jack-the-Sami-reindeer-herders on there, all taken with Bozer’s film-making skills.

(They really were great; Riley could never have managed something like that herself.)

Her smirk widened and took on a hint of a grin, and she reached out and fist-bumped him, which was more-or-less the limit of what she could do at work.

‘We are gonna have _so_ much fun with those photos.’

Bozer grinned a little wickedly.

‘Hell yeah, Riles. Hell yeah.’ He typed on his phone. ‘Sending to you right now.’ Riley’s phone beeped as she received the photos, and Bozer guided her over to a handy bench. ‘Now, let’s see what pics are going out in the group chat…and which ones we’re gonna save for a special occasion…’

* * *

Beth walked into the room in the infirmary that Mac and Jack were sitting in (while she hadn’t been in sight when they’d walked in, probably busy with other patients, there’d been a label on the door, in large, neat handwriting that proclaimed _Mac, Jack – in here)_ , each on their own bed, and _still_ in their Sami reindeer herder outfits.

‘Sorry, gentlemen, I must have the wrong room.’ There was a wry, very amused expression on her face. ‘I’m looking for a Jack Dalton and an Angus MacGyver, not two Sami reindeer herders.’ She held her hand up in the air, about eight inches over her head, clearly suppressing giggles. ‘They’re about that tall, always bickering, terrible patients.’ Her expression brightened very exaggeratedly, and her face turned pinker from the effort of suppressing laughter. ‘Oh, but while you’re here, can you tell me why Rudolph’s nose is red? I’ve always wondered how that was possible…’

Mac gave a wry smirk, as he shook his head with exasperated affection.

‘Spontaneous genetic mutation. That’s all I’m at liberty to say.’ That was said almost-deadpan, and he shook his head again, with even more exasperated fondness. ‘ _Hilarious,_ Beth.’

Jack put a hand over his heart.

‘I’m _hurt,_ Doc! You don’t recognize us in these crazy costumes?’ Jack clutched his chest even harder and mock-winced. ‘I’m really, really wounded! Aren’t you supposed to do no harm?’

Beth’s amused smile only widened more, before she shook her head a little and her expression changed to something a little apologetic and sheepish.

‘Sorry, Mac, Jack. It was too amusing to resist…’ Her expression changed again, to her caring professional look. ‘Any injuries to report? Or _potential_ injuries?’

That was punctuated with a slight narrowing of her eyes at them.

Jack pointed at Mac, while Mac pointed at Jack.

‘Mac fell down a snowbank.’

‘I _rolled_! Jack walked into a pole on a float and hit his head pretty badly.’

‘I _did not_! I touched it with my face, that was all! And I did _not_ walk into it, brother, it…it…’

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Mac lay on the deck, pillowing his head on his hands, with his knees bent up and feet resting on the deck, an affectionate and slightly wry little smile on his face as he watched his girlfriend.

Beth was sitting up by his stomach, in a fit of hysterical laughter.

(If they hadn’t just shared a third of a bottle of wine – the leftover two-thirds were still in the bottle, which had been re-sealed with a little device Mac had made ages ago for that very purpose – he’d have been concerned that there was something in it.)

As he watched (a teeny bit concerned that his girlfriend might asphyxiate, such was the force of her laughter), Beth threw her head back as she kept laughing.

After another twenty seconds of hysterical laughter, she calmed down again and leaned over him, shaking her head, looking a little sheepish.

‘I’m sorry, Mac, and I probably owe the Sami people some kind of apology too, but…it’s just…it’s just _hilarious.’_

Mac just gave a little smirk.

‘Well, I would probably be a pretty decent reindeer herder. You know, create a special feed mixture to keep my reindeer in peak condition, have a special set of microchips and a tracker to make sure I never lost one of my animals in a blizzard, and of course, I’d have a custom sled with a couple of rockets so I could go racing across the tundra at 150 miles per hour.’

Beth burst into another fit of giggles, then leaned over and poked him in the chest, shaking her head fondly.

‘You, Angus MacGyver, are _ridiculous.’_ She poked him again, head tilted a little to the left. ‘Besides, if you attached rockets to your sled, your reindeer would never be able to pull it; they couldn’t possibly run anywhere near fast enough to keep up with it.’

Mac’s smirk just widened.

‘With the exo-suits I’d build for them, they’d do just fine.’

Beth blinked twice at him, then spoke, probably not intentionally out-loud.

‘Now I kind of wish you _were_ a Sami reindeer herder…I would _love_ to see that.’

It was Mac’s turn to chuckle, and he sat up and brushed a couple of tears off his girlfriend’s face (she’d laughed so hard she’d cried), and just because she was _awesome_ and because he could, he leaned over and kissed her.

When they broke apart, he smiled wryly.

‘Exo-suits for animals are tricky, though. I haven’t told you about the time I tried to make one for Archimedes yet, have I?’ His smile grew more wry. ‘Or, as Bozer likes to call it, the Iron-Dog Incident.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there was no point to this chapter either…but come on! Mac and Jack as Sami reindeer herders! I had to write something! 
> 
> This story is now going on a hiatus of indeterminate length (I have no idea when or possibly if I’m going to add more to this right now – I do have some ideas, but I’m just not sure if they’ll get written; I have a lot of ideas, only about half of them ever get turned into fics), however, if I receive any requests, I promise I will write them ASAP!
> 
> I do, however, have two new _MacGyver_ fics coming up:
> 
> _It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas_ : 25 Christmas-themed ficlets, one for each day until December 25th. Or, my _MacGyver_ advent calendar.
> 
> That is complete and will start posting on December 1st.
> 
> _Just My Luck_ : FBI colleagues and sworn enemies Riley and Bozer are forced by their boss Matty to work together. Meanwhile, Riley’s mom bumps into her ex-boyfriend Jack at the supermarket (literally) and Bozer’s roommate and BFF Mac texts a wrong number and somehow befriends ‘Doc’. Or, another Rom-Com AU that no-one asked for.
> 
> This is about half-written and is quite long, featuring an ensemble cast of Mac, Jack, Riley, Bozer, Diane, Beth, Matty, Cage, Thornton and Penny, plus cameos from other canon characters and my cast of OCs; I’ll start posting it when I’m done, which will hopefully be before Christmas.
> 
> I’ve got a couple of other ideas floating around my head; no idea if they’ll get written or not yet. I’ve been wanting to write a _MacGyver/The Martian_ crossover for ages, so that might be the next project I tackle. We’ll see!


	20. I Know This is Part of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a Guest. 
> 
> Mac locks himself in a room with deadly VX nerve gas to save Jack, Cage, Sarah, a SWAT team, some would-be terrorists and the people of New York City. Sometimes, loving a man who puts the lives of others above his own really, really hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song Soldier’s Wife (Don’t Want You To Go) by American Young. Inspiration for this fic comes from 2.09, CD-ROM + Hoagie Foil (Honestly, Guest who requested this – I was already thinking of writing this after seeing the ep, you just gave me a nudge, thanks! It was written so fast because I already had half of it written in my brain!), that song, and a trailer for the upcoming film _Only the Brave_ about the Granite Mountain Hotshots (which, yes, gave me some ideas for a firefighter!AU, but no promises that that’ll be written, I’ve only got a few scenes in my head right now), specifically a line about sharing your man with the fire. Obviously, this is this AU’s version of 2.09, CD-ROM + Hoagie Foil.

**‘BORROWED’ CAR**

**SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK STATE**

* * *

‘…We’ve got intel that Annisa Chandra, Indonesian extremist, has allied herself with The Organization…’

Matty’s voice rang out over Jack’s phone (which had thankfully not been commandeered this time), which Mac was holding as Jack drove them to their ex-fil site after another successful mission.

Jack made a face.

‘Yeah, I know her work. And I’m not a fan.’

His twice-former boss continued.

‘We uncovered her plan to steal a canister of VX nerve gas that was _supposed_ to have been destroyed but was _instead_ put up for sale on the black market by the tech who was _meant_ to destroy it.’ Matty did _not_ sound happy, which didn’t surprise the partners in the slightest. ‘Cage went undercover. Tailed the mercs Chandra hired, deliberately got herself caught, and then hacked their brains to convince them that her employer had already stolen the VX and replaced it with argon…’

Mac cut in to explain quietly to Jack at that point.

‘It’s an inert noble gas; harmless.’

Matty retorted over the phone. (Evidently, he hadn’t been quiet enough.)

‘Thanks for the science lesson, blondie, can I continue now?’ She didn’t wait for an answer, just ploughed on. ‘And she convinced them that she was flipping on her employer to work for Chandra, and that she could get them the real gas.’ There was a note of concern in Matty’s voice when she continued. ‘Cage got the target out of them; Grand Central Station. She’s with them again, with the actual fake canister.’

Another voice, Viv’s, rang out over Jack’s phone.

‘But I’m tracking them over satellite, and they’re not heading for Grand Central; they’re heading towards the plant that supplies all of New York City’s water.’

Mac cursed under his breath, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

‘And VX gas is water-soluble.’

Matty spoke again.

‘You two are the closest agents I trust, go help Cage. Sarah’s bringing a local SWAT team, rendezvous with them at the plant.’

Viv’s voice sounded out again.

‘You need to make the next left…and hurry up.’

Jack stepped on the gas.

‘Yes, ma’am!’

* * *

**INFIRMARY**

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘Doc?’

Thornton walked into Beth’s office in the infirmary, which was empty (the best state for it to be). The doctor was doing paperwork, determining what supplies she’d need for the next quarter based on average usage rates and ordering them. She looked up as soon as Thornton entered.

‘Yes, boss?’

‘Do you and Ritchie keep the antidote to VX nerve gas on hand?’

Worry flickered across Beth’s face for a moment (she swore Thornton was herself worried too), but she ordered herself to stay in her doctor headspace and nodded.

The antidote (or rather, antidote combination) was one common to many nerve agents, and besides, VX was common enough that she and Ritchie had considered it necessary.

They had plenty of atropine and pralidoxime, and Beth also kept diazepam and other assorted sedatives/anti-epileptics in the infirmary.

‘Yes.’

She hesitated a moment, wanting to ask why Thornton was asking her this, but her boss beat her to it and explained.

‘Mac, Jack, Cage and Sarah are attempting to stop the release of VX gas into New York City’s water supply by terrorists.’

More worry shot through the Phoenix’s doctor, but she kept her doctor face on and nodded seriously, doing everything she could to stay as objective as she could.

‘VX gas takes eighteen hours to kill. It’s treatable. If they’re exposed, they need to get back here as soon as possible, but we can cure them.’

Thornton nodded, and Beth swore a tiny bit of weight lifted from her shoulders.

‘I’ll tell the pilot of Mac and Jack’s original ex-fil jet to wait.’

Beth nodded, getting up from her seat.

‘I’ll go talk to Ritchie about the antidote.’

* * *

**WATER TREATMENT PLANT**

**(THE ONE THAT SUPPLIES ALL OF NYC’S WATER)**

**NEW YORK STATE**

* * *

Mac stared in horror at the punctured, leaking canister of VX gas, his brain already ticking into overdrive. He glanced around, and then darted into the nearby office, slamming the door shut behind him.

_Yes, I just sealed myself in a room with a deadly nerve gas._

_Do I have a plan?_

_No, not yet, except for don’t let the VX get into NYC’s water supply._

_I’ll think of something…_

Jack and Cage ran over to the glass wall of the office (Sarah was occupied working with the SWAT team to secure all the terrorists), and Mac’s partner yelled at him, already pulling out his phone, presumably to call Beth.

‘Mac! Mac! Hey, what are you doing?’

Only half paying attention, mind ticking into overdrive as he tried to find a solution to the problem, searching the office for things he could use, Mac replied, holding up the canister in explanation.

‘It’s leaking.’

Jack gestured to the door, half-blindly opening up his contacts and dialling Beth.

‘Then get out of there!’

Mac briefly turned to look at his partner.

‘It’s too late, I’m already exposed.’

Jack held his phone up to an ear, and simultaneously raised the butt of his gun to the glass.

‘Alright, step back.’

Cage held out an arm to stop him.

‘Wait, wait, wait! Break the glass and we all die.’

Mac, scrabbling for something on the desk, also called out.

‘And the VX could get into the water.’

Cage stepped a little closer to Jack, speaking as reassuringly as she could.

‘He’ll think of something.’

Jack swore under his breath, then started talking into his phone at the Phoenix’s doctor, switching the call to video-call mode, holding it up so she could see what Mac had gotten himself into now.

‘Doc, he’s sealed himself into a little room with VX…’ At that moment, Mac stabbed himself in the leg with a pair of scissors, and screamed out in pain. Jack swore again, hoping that the gas wasn’t frying his partner’s brain or something like that. ‘Now what are you doing? Doc, he just-‘

Beth’s voice cut him off, a distinct, strong note of worry and pain in her voice.

‘I saw.’ There was a very slight pause, and when she spoke again, that note of worry and pain had faded to her usual doctor’s concern. Cage had looked like she’d wanted to speak, but deferred to the doctor. ‘He’s stimulating the release of adrenaline in his body; it can slow the effects of the gas. He’s buying himself time.’ She thought for a moment, watching what Mac was doing and thinking half out loud. ‘You’re in a water treatment plant…I think sewer gas lines are…they have to be, surely, to prevent explosions…you could burn it off if…’

Mac, despite the situation, managed to give a little smile as he seized a CD-ROM and started cutting into it with his Swiss Army knife.

‘I’m gonna make a vent hood, like the ones in every laboratory ever built.’

Jack looked very confused and very worried, glancing between his partner in the room and the doctor on the phone. They both seemed to think Mac knew what he was doing, but Jack didn’t get it (he didn’t think Cage did either), and despite his faith in Mac, he was really concerned that the gas was turning his brain to mush.

‘Won’t that just spread the gas to the air above the plant?’

Mac finished cutting up the CD-ROM, and shook his head as he, wincing in pain, made his way over to the fridge and opened the door.

‘No. Sewer gas lines are already set up to safely dispose of methane.’ He seized the hoagie inside and unwrapped it, shaping the foil into a long, tubular shape. ‘They push the gas through an industrial flare.’ He staggered away from the fridge again, and got to work fitting together the last bits of his makeshift vent hood. ‘I’m gonna use that same system to ignite the VX gas and burn it off before it can disperse.’ Vent hood complete, Mac allowed himself to sink down to the floor, as the gas in the room was sucked out. ‘See? It’s working.’

* * *

As he and Cage helped Mac out of the plant, Jack looked incredulously and with great relief at his partner.

‘Come on, man, now, _how the hell_ did you survive locking yourself in a room full of nerve gas?’

Mac’s expression changed into something that most closely resembled a wry smirk.

‘Uh…I didn’t. It takes eighteen hours to kill you, so I need to get back to the infirmary ASAP. Then, once Beth has pumped me full of atropine and pralidoxime and…’ He thought for a moment, face screwing up a little in thought. ‘…probably diazepam, I’ll have survived locking myself in a room full of nerve gas.’

Jack shook his head.

‘She ain’t gonna be happy with you, brother.’

Mac gave another one of those wry smirks.

‘I’ll think of a way to make it up to her.’

Cage glanced over at the other blonde, then at Jack.

She didn’t think it was Beth being _mad_ that Mac had to worry about.

She also knew that both of the partners knew that.

* * *

**INFIRMARY**

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘Put him on the bed, please.’

Beth addressed Jack and Cage as they half-carried Mac, who was very short of breath, into the prepared room in the infirmary. Then, once they’d deposited Mac there, she started undoing the buttons on his shirt, which Cage and Jack took as their cue to leave.

(Jack didn’t like seeing his partner’s skinny butt; he’d go help Thornton deal with Oversight so that they’d stay off Mac’s back, then come back later when there wasn’t a chance of seeing his scrawny butt. Cage needed to go help out with the interrogations of Chandra’s mercs so that they could take down the whole ring, including the queen bee.)

‘I can do that…’

‘You are technically dying from exposure to VX gas, Mac. Let me do it.’ She finished undoing his shirt, tugged it out of his pants, and pulled it off him, then reached out and grabbed a vial and a syringe. ‘Atropine, pralidoxime and diazepam first, and then I’ll deal with your leg.’

The wound had been field-dressed by Cage on the flight back, but it would definitely need stitching.

Mac made a face as she found a vein and injected the antidote combination into him, barely feeling a thing. (Beth had excellent technique. He’d also developed a high pain tolerance.)

‘I have to wear a hospital gown, don’t I?’

Beth huffed out a long-suffering sigh, knowing that Mac was reaching for levity in the darkness, that lightness that they all sought out, and did her bit to produce that lightness.

‘Yes, you do. You _know_ you have to, Mac.’ She disposed of the used syringe, then removed the field dressing, undid his belt, and tugged off his pants as gently as she could, examining Mac’s self-inflicted stab wound. ‘You picked a good spot, you missed all major blood vessels…’

She turned away to grab her wound-cleaning and stitching equipment, already laid out on a tray on a table next to Mac’s bed, and he gave a wry little smirk, trying to inject more lightness into the atmosphere.

‘You know I didn’t get a C in Biology due to a lack of biology knowledge…’

Beth was doing an excellent job of putting on a brave face, doing an excellent job of continuing to do her job. Of compartmentalizing and staying in her doctor headspace.

But Mac knew that all wasn’t right with his girlfriend, not at all. Not nearly.

He could tell, hear it in her voice, see it in the way she carried herself and on her face.

_If your significant other had just locked themselves in a room with a deadly nerve agent and stabbed themselves in the leg, even if it was to save potentially millions of lives, including a few of your friends, you’d be hurting inside too._

_Beth’s strong, stronger than she looks, but…the only way that wouldn’t hurt would be if you didn’t feel, and that’s definitely not the case with her. Definitely, definitely not the case._

He really, really wanted to reach out for her, take her hand and pull her close and rub her back and press kisses into her hair until that knot of fear and worry and pain started to unravel and she gave him a real smile, even a little one, but he knew he couldn’t.

(And not because he was weak and short of breath and in pain, and would shortly be very drowsy due to the diazepam. He could work with that; it’d take more than that to make him not able to offer her some comfort.)

It would be inappropriate. Grossly inappropriate.

And she’d pull away. She wouldn’t let him, not while they were at work.

It wasn’t the right time.

Not yet.

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘…It’s okay, I’m here…I’m fine…’ Beth’s hand tightened in his shirt, and even though she was currently crying into his chest as they sat on his bed, Mac was pretty sure she was also narrowing her eyes at him. He managed a wan fond smile at that, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, continuing to rub her back comfortingly. ‘…Okay, I’m not fine right now, but I will be soon, partly thanks to you…’

After another couple of sobs, Beth sat up a little, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand even as more continued to fall, though her sobs stopped and her breathing evened out a bit.

‘I don’t even know why I’m so affected by this, Mac…’ She sniffled and wiped away more tears. Mac pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, which got him a very tiny, slightly shaky, grateful smile, which he counted as a win. She wiped away more tears and blew her nose, then continued. ‘I mean, it’s not as if this is altogether unusual…’

She’d witnessed or heard of Mac facing near-death before, many times. She’d treated him for the effects in the aftermath. She’d cared for him in the aftermath of systematic torture and watched him walk off to what could have quite probably been his death at the hands of his arch-nemesis.

She suspected, though, that it might have been the whole stabbing-himself-in-the-leg thing that set her off. She knew why he’d done it, and it was a brilliant idea, and probably necessary, in her professional opinion, but that horrific image was seared in her memory forever now, unfortunately.

Mac sighed, a sad sound, and pulled her closer again, pressing another kiss into her hair, continuing to rub her back and then, after a moment, pulled away a little and cupped her cheek with a hand so he could see her face, look her in the eye.

‘I’m…I’m sorry, Beth. I’m sorry you’re hurting…I…’

He didn’t apologize for doing what he did. He couldn’t, really, really couldn’t.

He was sure she understood, but at the same time, she was _hurting_ and he had to say _something._

Beth really did narrow her eyes at him then, tilting her chin up a little fiercely, then poking him in the chest, even though her eyes were still a little teary and red, though she was no longer crying.

‘If you ever try and break up with me in some _really_ misguided attempt to spare me this hurt, Angus MacGyver, you will find yourself subjected to every uncomfortable and unpleasant medical examination I can think of.’ She poked him again. ‘So unless you want to find yourself scheduled for a prostate exam…’

That made him chuckle, though a little weakly. He knew she wouldn’t follow through; it’d be immensely unprofessional, and Beth took being as professional as she could when her patients included people who were family, including her boyfriend, very seriously, but it made her point very nicely, expressed her very strong feelings on the matter.

‘I won’t do that to you, Beth.’ He took one of her hands and hooked their pinkies together. ‘I promise.’

She managed a wan little smile at that.

‘I knew what I was getting into, Mac.’ She reached up to brush some of his hair back into place. ‘I’m in love with one of the best men I’ve ever met, who is absurdly brave and will do absolutely anything he can to save lives and protect people.’ She swallowed and spoke, something a little fierce and very resolute in her voice. ‘I’m never going to ask you to leave the Phoenix and give up doing what you do for me, Mac, I promise.’ Her expression became more wry. ‘If only for the fact that it would be futile and probably _increase_ your mortality. Even if you were a civilian, say, an engineer, as ordinary as you could possibly be, you’d still run _towards_ fires instead of _away_ and intervene to stop people being shot in everything from armed robberies to gang wars, Mac.’ He nodded, half-wryly, half-seriously. She was probably right. ‘You’re really more likely to die from a gunshot wound to the chest or the neck or the head…’ All quite possible in civilian life in the US, especially if one had Mac’s personality. ‘...than, say, your recent exposure to VX gas, especially without the backing and resources of the Phoenix…’ She trailed off, point made, and wiped the last vestiges of her tears from her face with his handkerchief. ‘But I’m always going to worry about you when you’re out on missions.’ She gestured at his tear-stained and relatively rumpled shirt, trying for wryness, a degree of lightness, and not quite succeeding, but doing an admirable job. ‘Sometimes, I’m going to cry, probably on you and your shirts, and require oxytocin boosts.’

He nodded seriously first, then smiled, soft and fond and amused, all at once, holding her close again.

‘When I get home…’ The _when_ was important. He would always do everything he could to get home to her and the rest of his family; he absolutely didn’t have a death wish and had far too much to live for to not fight with everything he had to come home in more-or-less one piece, even if sometimes, he had to put himself in harm’s way to make sure others could go home to their families. ‘…I’ll always happily provide you with all the stimulation of oxytocin release you could possibly require, I promise.’

With a wan little smile, she lifted her head from his chest and reached up to kiss him, then cuddled back into him.

They held each other for a long moment, feeling steadier and more at peace, before Beth untangled herself from him, careful of his leg.

Although Bozer, Jack, Riley and Sam (they’d felt it was only polite to invite her over for dinner after that mission – Sarah had gone home to her husband, but as far as they knew, Sam had no-one to go home to; besides, she was becoming part of the family, Bozer said she counted as Cousin Cage now) had insisted they could handle dinner (Jack and Riley weren’t really cooks – though lessons from Bozer and Beth had improved the hacker’s cooking skills greatly – but they were pretty sure Sam could cook; she gave off that same good-at-everything vibe as Patricia), it was rude to stay in here for too long, and the longer they stayed in Mac’s bedroom, the more teasing they’d have to endure.

Mac carefully got up and after glancing down at his shirt, started undoing the buttons, while Beth picked up a bottle of water he had on his desk, opened it and sniffed it with great care. After considering for a moment, she looked inquiringly over at him, and Mac smiled and nodded.

‘It’s water. _Just_ water.’

She smiled too, still a bit more wan than he would have liked, but definitely a genuine smile, and tipped a little bit of it onto his handkerchief and used it to wash her face. He discarded his tear-stained and rumpled shirt into his makeshift laundry basket and grabbed another shirt from his closet, speaking as he buttoned it up.

‘Want to bet on who’ll be the first to say something inappropriate? For the usual stakes?’

_Neither of us can really lose these little bets anyway, not with these stakes. It’s pretty win-win._

She snorted and shook her head, the gesture full of fond exasperation, then tilted her head to the left a bit, thinking for a moment, before speaking.

‘I’m going to go a little dark horse and say Bozer.’

‘I’m going for Jack.’ He always went for Jack, for good reasons. He slipped an arm around her, and she leaned into him, as he continued. ‘Besides, Boze isn’t really dark horse. It’d be a bit dark horse to go for Riley, more dark horse to go for Sam, and _truly_ dark horse to go for Patricia.’

She’d probably finished dealing with Oversight and wrapping up the takedown of Chandra’s organization by now, so should be at Mac’s by now. That made Beth snort again, and she stepped away from him, putting a hand on the doorknob and raising her brows wryly, her smile a bit bigger and less wan.

‘Time to face the vultures…oops, sorry, family!’

* * *

‘…So you’re finally done kissing and making up?’

Bozer smirked at the two of them, pulling a dish of lightly-toasted hoagie rolls out of the oven and waggling his eyebrows.

Jack, sitting at the kitchen counter and sipping beer, smirked too.

‘Or should that be making out?’ Then, he made a face. ‘Actually, don’t want to know, kids.’

Mac and Beth glanced at each other, sharing a fond, exasperated, long-suffering look.

‘Then you shouldn’t have asked, Jack.’

‘And no making up was necessary, Bozer.’

With that, Beth took two of the bottles of ginger beer that were on the kitchen counter, probably courtesy of Patricia, who was standing out on the deck with Riley and Sam, the three women chatting, and passed one to Mac (he wasn’t allowed alcohol for the next week), who opened it with his Swiss Army knife, and, when she raised her brows expectantly at him, obediently sat down on a stool next to Jack, before taking the other bottle of ginger beer from his girlfriend and opening it for her.

* * *

**FOUR DAYS LATER…**

* * *

‘ _Apollo 13_?’ Beth just nodded as Mac sat down on the couch next to her, carrying a large bowl of popcorn. They had the house to themselves, as Bozer was over at Riley and Beth’s with his girlfriend. (It was quite convenient for one pair of roommates to date another pair of roommates.) He grinned, putting his feet up on the coffee table (it was his coffee table, he could do to it whatever he wanted). ‘You’ve got great taste.’

_See? I told you nobody really loses these bets._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this was almost painful, honestly, but at the same time, it flowed out of my brain and onto my Word Doc very easily! Realistically, I think it would be, despite how lovable it is, very hard to be in love Mac in the sense that it would really, really hurt, because he puts the safety of others above his own (it would also really hurt those who love him – like Jack, Bozer, Riley etc.). I suspect that even if his significant other knew the truth about what he did, that could make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship, unless, of course, she understood that feeling and could empathize, at least to a decent extent (incidentally why Beth, in most of my stories, has worked with MSF and has a particular hang-up about double-tap airstrikes). 
> 
> Guest, I hope that hit the spot! My personal favourite moment might be Beth threatening Mac with a prostate exam and other similar exams should he try and break up with her to protect her from emotional distress when he inevitably gets hurt and puts himself into near-death situations to save people…


	21. Confirmed, Busted or Plausible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac’s mathematical proof for the existence of Santa only confused Jack more. Riley was unconvinced by it. Bozer claims he believes, but Mac’s sure his best friend’s just humouring him. Now he’s about to find out what Beth thinks of his math…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set the Christmas Eve straight after _Every End is a Beginning_ , the same Christmas that a good deal of _It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas_ is set and three days after Last First Date.

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘…I’m just saying.’

Mac held up his hands with a little movement of his head as he and Jack sat around the fire pit. The older man threw his hands up incredulously.

‘Why do you do this every year, dude?’

Mac simply pointed at his partner and shot him a look.

‘ _Prove_ he’s not real.’

Jack snorted in disbelief.

‘Santa is _not_ real, okay, you nerd.’

As Jack finished speaking, Beth walked out onto the deck, three festive mugs of egg nog (a practice run that had been whipped up earlier so Bozer could teach her and Mac to make it to his exacting standards – he’d been persuaded to delegate some of the Christmas cooking for the party the next day) in hand. She passed one to each of the two men, and got nods and smiles in return.

‘Cheers, kiddo.’

‘Thanks, Beth.’

She smiled back at both of them, and sat down in the empty space between Mac and Jack, cupping her own hilariously huge mug in both hands. Jack took a sip of the excellent-as-always egg nog, then pointed at Mac with his free hand.

‘And please, spare me your math that claims to support the jolly old man’s existence. It’s _annoying._ ’

Beth tilted her head a little to the left, looking over at Mac.

‘You’re a grown man who believes in Santa?’ That sounded rather sceptical. ‘Or are you a grown man who can’t rule out his existence?’

The second question was free of any scepticism or judgement and was rather curious.

Mac smiled.

‘The latter.’ He pointed at Jack and shot him a _look_. ‘Two different things, Jack.’ The older man snorted and took a sip of his egg nog with a shake of his head as Mac continued. ‘If you think about it; the rotation of the Earth, different time zones, and the latest research into Einstein-Rosen bridges…’

Jack rolled his eyes, even as Beth looked very thoughtful, considering Mac’s words.

‘You’ve been on this Santa kick _forever,_ man.’

Jack started grousing under his breath, and Mac leaned over, closer to Beth, to explain.

‘When I found out that Jack didn’t believe in Santa, I derived some equations to help change his mind, but that only confused him more.’

He gave a rueful smile.

_Yeah, in hindsight, math isn’t Jack’s strongest suit, and his knowledge of Einstein-Rosen bridges, commonly known as wormholes, has to be described as near non-existent, so I should never have expected any other outcome._

_Even if Jack is much smarter than you might think._

_He’s definitely not stupid. Far from it._

_I just thought that, maybe, with a little help from yours truly, he might be able to grasp it. At least somewhat._

_Turns out I was wrong._

Jack snorted again, addressing the young doctor, waving his egg nog mug around and gesturing at Mac with it.

‘Okay, so you know what this doofus does? He breaks into my apartment dressed as…’

He trailed off as it became very apparent that Beth wasn’t really paying attention to him. She was, instead, staring at Mac, her head tilted to the left, brow furrowed, thoughtful and curious and impressed, all at once.

‘You have a mathematical proof for the plausibility of the existence of Santa Claus?’

A most interesting expression appeared on Mac’s face as he nodded. It was, somehow, a mixture of the happy, excited grin of a small child on Christmas morning, the satisfied smile he often wore after one-upping Jack, and the smug smirk of a grown man who’d just impressed an attractive woman.

‘Want me to show you?’

Beth nodded enthusiastically, and his grin-smile-smirk widening, Mac put down his egg nog, jumped up and offered the young woman a hand. She took his hand and got up herself, and then, the two of them disappeared into the house, leaving Jack and two temporarily-forgotten mugs of egg nog on the deck.

Jack shook his head, the gesture full of exasperated fondness and a touch of disbelief.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Mac, feeling a little lonely and longing to find love, had taken matters into his own hands and made himself the perfect (android) girlfriend.

But he was certain that Beth was 100% flesh-and-blood and had been made the normal way like everyone else.

Jack’s brow furrowed.

Maybe he should mention this to Bozer.

It’d make a good movie.

He picked up the two forgotten mugs of egg nog, and then, it hit him.

Jack smirked as he walked inside.

He was certain that a repeat of Mac’s math and its accompanying explanation wouldn’t change his mind on Santa (and wouldn’t help him become any less confused about the math either), but he might be able to make some moolah off Riley and Bozer…

* * *

**EIGHT MINUTES LATER**

* * *

Jack, Riley and Bozer stood in the kitchen, looking out over the living room, sipping egg nog and munching on popcorn left over from decorating.

Jack reached out blindly and grabbed another handful of popcorn, stuffing the whole thing into his mouth. Riley punched Jack in the arm without even looking away from the scene before them, as Bozer sipped egg nog, also transfixed.

Mac and Beth were kneeling in front of the coffee table, which now had a large roll of butcher paper spread out over it (Mac had pulled it from somewhere), the two corners of the free end weighted down by the paperclip bowl that lived on the coffee table and Beth’s mug of egg nog, which the blonde had almost-literally seized from Jack’s hands for use as a paperweight.

Using a marker, Mac was rapidly scrawling math across the paper that Riley could sort-of understand and Bozer recognized as hard math, thanks to all the years he’d spent with his BFF, but could have been an alien language to Jack, as Beth carefully studied what he wrote, listening to his explanation and commenting or asking questions from time to time.

‘…So in this case, you’re arguing that the Einstein-Rosen bridges would solely connect two different points in space, not time.’

Mac nodded, as he pointed out a section of the most recent equation.

‘Exactly. With the rotation of the Earth and the existence of time zones, there’s no need for time travel.’ He shrugged. ‘It could possibly occur, but given the debate about whether wormholes can be used for time travel, I thought it’d be best to leave that out.’

Beth nodded in agreement.

‘That makes your argument stronger.’ She studied the most recent equation, then turned to Mac, eyes narrowed and with a teasing smile. ‘This is why you sent me that two-month-old paper on Einstein-Rosen bridges with your annotations last week, isn’t it?’

Mac looked up from his math, expression changing into something that was half a sheepish smile and half a smug smirk.

‘Well, I _did_ think you’d find it fascinating…’

_I can neither confirm nor deny that I was also motivated by the desire to lay a little groundwork for persuading her that the existence of Santa Claus cannot be ruled out, using only science and evidence, of course._

_Given our relationship, there are other persuasive techniques available to me, but A, I’m not very confident in my ability to execute them, B, it’d be cheating, and C and most importantly, well…I’ve still got some very negative associations with and moral qualms about said persuasive techniques._

_Besides, I think the science-and-evidence approach is working excellently, even if I say so myself._

Beth laughed and shook her head, then looked up at him, voice and expression teasing.

‘How very devious of you, Angus MacGyver.’

* * *

**TEN MINUTES LATER**

* * *

Jack reached blindly into the popcorn bowl, only to find that it was empty. Bozer kept sipping at his egg nog, seemingly not realizing that he’d finished it about a minute ago and was only taking in air.

Both of them were too distracted by what was happening in the living room.

Riley, in contrast, was now paying attention to the scene in the way that Bozer and Jack were, as well as genuinely considering the math and arguments presented.

(Mac’s mathematical proofs hadn’t convinced her yet, and she doubted they ever would, but they’d developed even further over the last couple of years and she admitted that she thought there’d been an improvement, though she wasn’t immensely familiar with Einstein-Rosen bridges and was not up to date with the latest research.)

Mac and Beth fell silent as the blonde finished presenting his arguments. Beth started carefully and methodically going over his math again, thinking face on, while Mac re-shaped a paperclip into the jolly old man himself.

Then, the brunette woman nodded, once, twice, then a third time, more certain with each repetition, and turned to Mac.

‘In my opinion, the myth of Santa Claus isn’t confirmed.’ She gave a wry little smile. ‘But it isn’t busted either.’ Her smile widened. ‘I think it’s plausible.’ That made Mac give an answering smile and a little chuckle, and Beth’s smile widened further as she gestured to the math-covered butcher paper. ‘Your proof is very, very impressive.’

Wordlessly, Jack and Bozer each reached into their wallets, pulled out ten bucks and handed the cash to Riley, who was smiling very knowingly.

Jack shook his head.

He really needed to stop making bets with these genius kids.

His win-loss record was _awful._

He’d finished his own mug of egg nog already, so he reached out and grabbed Mac’s off the kitchen counter and took a sip.

He was pretty sure it’d be ages before it’d be missed.

‘...Well, yeah, he’d either have to be a human from the future or a more technologically-advanced universe, or he’d have to be an alien with some combination of a different physiology and better tech to pull it off.’

‘Why does Santa have to be just _one_ individual? What about a group of aliens or even an entire species?’

(Beth thought that to be the most plausible identity for Santa, if Santa did, in fact, exist.)

Mac pursed his lips in thought, then nodded.

‘That can’t be ruled out.’ He smiled wryly. ‘That’s also plausible.’ Then, his brow furrowed and he started annotating the equations he’d written on the butcher paper. ‘Changes the math, though.’

Beth simply nodded, shifting a little, moving closer to him so that she could peer over his shoulder.

‘Also, why would a human or humans from another time period or universe or an alien or aliens deliver gifts to kids?’

Mac shrugged.

‘Because it’s an important part of their culture, a ritual for demonstrating generosity, perhaps?’ He shrugged again with a wry smile. ‘Anthropology and…’ His face screwed up a little as he searched for the right term. ‘…xenoanthropology aren’t my strong suits, Beth!’

Meanwhile, still in the kitchen, Bozer, Jack and Riley all exchanged a glance, full of fondness and exasperation and a touch of disbelief.

Jack shook his head as he polished off Mac’s egg nog.

‘If those two crazy kiddos have kids…I swear they’re gonna build a rollercoaster or something by the time they’re ten, like those cartoon kids, you know, the one with the triangle head and the other one with the green hair…’

Riley quirked an eyebrow at Jack and Bozer.

(Apparently, Jack had, at one point, watched _Phineas and Ferb…_ )

Bozer put his hands up, doubtlessly recalling what had happened when he’d made an apparently-too-soon comment the day before, wishing Beth good luck for dealing with Mac-the-world’s-worst-overprotective-dad in the future.

(Sure, they’d only been on their first date three days ago, but Mac’s arch-nemesis had already targeted her specifically because he knew what she meant to him, and they’d had a sufficiently, almost overly-slow slow build, with plenty of angst and hurt-comfort moments and adorable ones too, so Bozer was quite certain that the Phoenix’s doctor was totally Mac’s endgame love interest.)

(Just like he was convinced that he and Riley were each other’s and that Patricia and Jack were each other’s too, even if there was going to be a seriously slow burn there.)

‘Hey, he said it, not me!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that fun? I enjoyed writing it! I couldn’t resist the _Mythbusters_ and _Phineas and Ferb_ references – both shows really remind me of Mac! I also couldn’t resist Bozer’s skimming-the-fourth-wall meta jokes – I headcanon that Bozer’s a fanboy! 
> 
> Up next will be this universe’s take on 2.11, Bullet + Pen, which I’m hoping to finish before Christmas…
> 
> As always – let me know if you’ve got a request!


	22. All I Want for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac is arrested for murder. Since he’s Mac, that somehow ends with the takedown of a major drug- and arms-dealing cartel, a blow struck against The Organization…and an engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set a little over four years after _Every End is a Beginning_. It’s also this AU’s version of 2.11, Bullet + Pen. 
> 
> To InsanelyOkay – not sure if you read this fic, but I’m guessing you do (there’s quite a lot of Mac/Beth fluffiness in it – I’m really glad you like this ship!) – I don’t think we have a canon date for Mac’s grandfather’s death and there are some inconsistencies. In 1.10, Pliers, it is implied that while they lived in Mission City, at some point, Mac moved in with Bozer, which would mean that sixteen (or even younger) is likely. In 1.19, Compass, Mac’s grandfather was alive when Mac decided to drop out of MIT to join the Army, meaning he was alive when Mac was eighteen. Furthermore, in Pliers, Bozer says that Mac hasn’t been back to Mission City for five years. If we assume that Mac was born in 1991 (implied by the fact that in 2.11, Bullet + Pen, it was said he joined the Army in 2009, but there are many inconsistencies with Mac’s age) and was hence twenty-five at the time of that episode, it implies that Mac went home at some point when he was in the Army, and a logical reason would be his grandfather’s death, which would mean that his grandfather died when he was twenty. In short, I have no idea and play around with it as necessary! (I previously thought, pre-Compass, that it was when he was sixteen, and used that in most of my stories written at that time…now I just sort-of gloss over the timing…)

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Alone in his and Beth’s bedroom (Bozer’s old bedroom – they’d moved into the master after Bozer had moved in with Riley), Mac reached into the very back of his sock drawer and pulled out a pair of very ugly socks covered in dirty science jokes that he’d been given by Smitty years and years ago as a gag gift. He unravelled the sock ball and pulled out a little piece of metal that looked like the lovechild of an Allen key and a screwdriver. Holding the key in his mouth, he then grabbed the very top shelf of the built-in wardrobe and hauled himself up with two hands, then, with great effort, braced one of his arms on the shelf to support his weight as he fiddled the Allen-key-screwdriver-hybrid into position. He heard the tell-tale click and made a noise of satisfaction, then grunted as he reached into the tiny compartment hidden in the wall that was revealed.

He retrieved a small, black-velvet-covered box with a smile, closed the panel that hid the compartment and dropped back to the floor. He returned the key to its hiding place, and popped the little box open.

He stared at the simple, understated diamond ring inside for a long moment, feeling nervous in a way that he really shouldn’t (they’d discussed this, and she’d practically given him an embossed invitation on a silver platter to ask…).

Then, Mac smiled, excited and nervous and happy and _loving_ above all, closed the box and pocketed it, then headed back out towards the deck.

His smile widened a little as he passed the train set running in a circle in his living room.

This year, his usual DIY Christmas decorations had an extra-special surprise in them, carefully crafted by him with great forethought…and just-as-carefully concealed from Beth.

_I know, I’m not one for plans, not usually...but I had to make this special, for her._

_She more than deserves it._

* * *

When he reached the deck, Beth was in a fit of giggles over her mug of egg nog, and Jack was coughing, seemingly having swallowed a bit of his drink the wrong way. Bozer, who was sitting next to the older man, was thumping him on the back, even as he grinned a little smugly, as Riley socked him in the arm, lightly and affectionately, the diamond on her left ring finger gleaming in the light.

(A week ago, she’d gotten sick of Bozer dawdling, sitting on the ring, trying to build up the courage to ask her, and proposed to him instead.)

(Bozer had cried happy tears.)

Mac’s smile widened even further, and he sat down next to his girlfriend, who offered him her mug of egg nog.

He took it, still smiling, and took a sip.

‘Thanks, Beth.’

* * *

‘…Cheers.’ Jack’s grin widened as the door leading out onto the deck from the house opened. ‘Hey, there she…’

He trailed off as he caught sight of Thornton’s face.

She looked extremely serious and extremely worried.

Also, he thought, a little regretful.

Jack put down his mug of egg nog, as Bozer, Riley, Mac and Beth all exchanged concerned glances.

‘What’s wrong, boss?’

Thornton swallowed.

‘I’m sorry, but Christmas is on hold. We have a problem.’ She turned to Mac. ‘The bomb you built last week in LA, when we went with bad intel?’ Mac nodded, expression very set. He had a very bad feeling about this. ‘It appears our intel was even more incomplete than we realized.’ Thornton’s expression softened ever-so-slightly. She did _not_ want to deliver this news to them, Mac especially. She knew how he felt about taking life very, very well. ‘That building wasn’t empty. The maintenance man, a civilian named George Ramsey, died when a section of the wall collapsed on him.’ Her expression softened further. ‘I’m sorry, Mac.’

The blonde had tensed up, horrified. Wordlessly, Beth reached out and took his hand in hers, rubbing that soothing figure-of-eight pattern over it with her thumb.

‘Are…are you saying that I killed a civilian?’

Thornton didn’t say anything, but her silence spoke volumes.

Jack shook his head vehemently, shaking himself out of his shocked silence.

‘No, no, wait a minute, I cleared that building myself. It was empty!’ He shot Thornton a look. ‘Don’t start playing the blame game, Patty!’

Thornton’s expression, although still deadly serious, also, somehow, became softer and sadder and far more worried.

(Jack thought that note of regret grew more prominent too.)

‘The game’s already started, Jack.’ She turned her head a little to make eye contact with Mac. ‘The LAPD has a warrant for your arrest, Mac. They’re on their way here now.’

‘What?’

‘No…’

‘This is crazy!’

Mac was silent.

Jack turned to his boss.

‘Patty, how do we get Mac out of this?’

Thornton swallowed and shook her head a little, the motion definitely sad and concerned.

‘I don’t know.’

Jack clenched his fists.

‘That’s not good enough, Patty!’

Thornton simply nodded, seemingly in agreement.

‘I know, Jack. I…we will do everything we can, but right now, this is happening.’ She made eye contact with all of them in turn, eyes cool, but, to their practiced eyes, not uncaring or unsympathetic, not in the slightest. ‘And we all need to maintain our covers.’

Bozer and Riley exchanged a concerned glance, while Jack swore repeatedly under his breath, and Beth squeezed Mac’s hand tightly.

At that moment, Mac’s security system made the distinctive sound it did when someone it did not recognize as a friend stepped into his front yard.

They all glanced at one another, then Mac leaned over and kissed his girlfriend’s forehead, whispering something into her ear that made her give a sad little smile and nod a little jerkily, eyes flickering closed for a moment.

Then, he let go of her hand and stood. Thornton stepped back inside, and Bozer and Riley stood and followed her, Riley putting an arm around her former roommate’s shoulders when Beth got up and leading the other woman inside.

When the two of them were alone on the deck, Jack put both his hands on Mac’s shoulders.

‘Don’t…don’t worry, Mac, we’ll get you out of this…’ Jack shook his partner’s shoulders slightly, his own voice shaky. ‘You hear me? I _promise_.’

Mac nodded, that unspoken question, that plea for Jack to protect his family should Mac be unable to do so, clear in his eyes, even though he knew, even though they both knew, it was something that didn’t have to be asked.

(They were Jack’s family too. Besides, it was a given – each of them would protect each other’s loved ones with their last breaths, even if those loved ones weren’t the same.)

Jack swallowed, his voice hoarse with emotion, and nodded resolutely.

‘Always, son. Always.’

Mac gave a very weak smile, then slipped past Jack, towards the front door, just as a loud banging started.

As the blonde brushed past him, Jack felt a weight settle into his pocket.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box. He swallowed as he realized what it was, his resolve to keep his spoken promise to Mac strengthening even further, then put it back into his pocket and headed inside, towards the front door.

* * *

‘Angus MacGyver?’

Mac nodded.

‘Yes.’

‘You’re under arrest for the murder of George Ramsey. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…’

As the cuffs clicked closed around his wrists, Mac just looked over at Jack, Beth, Bozer, Riley and Patricia, standing in a cluster in the hallway.

Riley and Bozer were holding hands. His BFF had a comforting arm around Beth’s shoulders, whose chin was up-tilted in that fiercely-determined way of hers as she willed herself not to break down. Jack’s hands were clenched into fists, and he nodded a little jerkily as Mac’s eyes fell on him. Patricia’s eyes echoed Jack’s earlier unspoken promise, promising Mac silently that she would protect them for him with everything she had too.

Mac swallowed, resisting the urge to let his eyes flicker closed.

Instead, he drank in the sight of his family as if it were the very last time he’d see them.

* * *

**INTERROGATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

‘What were you doing at that warehouse, Mr MacGyver?’ The middle-aged detective stared him down. ‘You don’t feel like talking? That’s okay.’ He reached into the file on the table between them. ‘You just sit back and relax. I’ll show you some pictures.’ He tossed a photo onto the table before them. A photo of a man buried under the remnants of a wall, clearly dead. ‘This is what it looks like when someone drops a building on you.’ Detective Greer leaned closer to him, eyes cold and full of restrained anger. ‘The man you killed was married. Two kids. Six and eight. Worked three jobs just to provide.’ Mac couldn’t quite hold back a reaction at all of that, and huffed out a breath and leaned back in his chair, looking away. Greer’s eyes narrowed. ‘You got somewhere to be?’ He thumped a hand on the table, voice harsh. ‘Look at me!’ Mac couldn’t. The guilt that he’d started feeling the moment that Thornton had spoken those fateful words about George Ramsey was gnawing even harder at him now, strengthened by Greer’s revelations and the lack of that comfort that Beth had provided him earlier. Greer’s eyes hardened even further. ‘I said, look at me!’ Mac still couldn’t, and the detective made a disgusted noise. ‘There ain’t gonna be no Christmas miracle for you, pal. You’re here. For good.’ He leaned closer. ‘So you might as well start talking.’

Mac couldn’t.

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘…Mac can’t say anything. No matter what the police throw at him, he cannot reveal that he is a covert agent working for the US government.’

Riley, perched on the arm of one of the armchairs in the war room, lifted a hand off her laptop, throwing it into the air in frustration as Thornton finished speaking.

‘I covered all our digital tracks and scrubbed all the cameras.’ She looked up at their boss, standing near the screen, and Jack, who was standing in the corner closest to Riley’s armchair, and Bozer, who was pacing near the door. ‘What evidence could they possibly have?’

Jack crossed his arms and addressed her.

‘You tell me! You’re the tech nerd in this mod squad!’ He gestured to Riley’s laptop. ‘Can’t you use that thing to crack LAPD’s system? At least find out what they have on our boy?’

Riley gestured to her laptop, frustrated, just like Jack.

(His words and attitude stung a little bit, but she knew he was only being so snippy to her because of his worry, his fear, for Mac, born out of love.)

(She definitely understood that. She felt the same, right now.)

‘What do you think I’m _trying_ to do, Jack?’

‘Well, what’s taking you so long? You cracked the damn NSA quicker than this!’

‘Yeah, the NSA was one system, and it was up to date.’ Riley flung out a hand. ‘The LAPD is at least twenty different systems, and some of them are _ancient_.’ She snorted. ‘I’m trying to teach myself Fortran. If you knew what that was, you’d be as frustrated as I am!’

Jack and Riley’s mutual sniping was cut off at that point as the war room door opened and Beth burst in.

‘I have no patients currently, I’ve got all the alert systems set up…’ She held up her phone. ‘…and Sparky is manning the infirmary.’ The robot was now capable of triage and simple medical care (he could do bandaging, but not stitches), thanks to much hard work by Mac, Beth, Riley and Bozer. ‘So I can help in any way I can.’

She locked eyes with their boss, chin up-tilted, something fiercely protective and immensely determined in her eyes.

Like she would disobey orders if Thornton ordered her out.

Their boss simply nodded.

‘You weren’t there; fresh eyes will be helpful.’ She turned back to the room in general. ‘We know the police must have enough on Mac to find him and arrest him. We need to go back-‘

Jack cut her off and shot her a look.

‘What we _need_ to do is go in there and get him _right now,_ forcibly, if need be!’

Beth, Bozer, Riley and Thornton all exchanged a glance, and then, the little doctor crossed the room and grabbed Jack by the forearm, then started tugging him towards the door.

‘Come on, Jack. We need to talk.’

He protested, even as she tugged harder.

‘We don’t have time-‘

She shot him a narrow-eyed look.

‘ _Jack.’_

That was said with that same warning tone she used whenever anyone tried to do something they shouldn’t after being injured, or when she thought there was a good chance that they’d try.

That same warning tone that could, somehow, keep Mac in his bed, hooked up to his IV, and wearing his hospital gown when necessary.

He let her tug him out the war room door.

* * *

She stopped and released him just under the staircase next to the war room. The war room’s glass walls frosted over just as she did, as Thornton tapped the glass in the special pattern, giving them privacy.

Beth put a hand on Jack’s shoulder instead, and spoke, voice somehow both very firm and insistent, and gentle and kind.

‘ _Don’t_ blame yourself, Jack Dalton.’

Jack made an incoherent noise of protest, and pulled himself away from her touch, turning his back to her and gesturing rather violently towards the war room.

‘Every single one of us got him into this hot spot, except you!’

‘Don’t blame Riley or Thornton or Bozer either, Jack.’ She paused again. ‘This…this is part of the job, Jack. This is the risk that you all take.’ She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder again. ‘You know that and accept that, we all know that and accept that.’ She paused again, voice a little shakier when she continued. ‘Mac knows and accepts that.’

Beth could feel the tension in Jack’s body. His shoulder was very, very stiff under her hand, and his hands were still clenched into fists. He gestured to the war room again.

‘You know how many rescue operations we’ve planned in this very room?’ Jack ran a hand through his hair. ‘Busting Mac out’s gonna be no different from any other mission.’ He swallowed, voice getting a little rough. ‘This is _Mac_ we’re talking about here! He did the same two weeks ago for me in Yemen, he’s done it countless times before!’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘I owe him, Beth. And he’s family, you don’t let family rot in a cell! Come on, _you love him_!’

He sounded accusatory.

Beth just squeezed his shoulder and bit her lip, letting go of the sting that Jack’s words caused as best as she could. She knew he didn’t mean it that way, he was just worried and scared for Mac and frustrated and hurting like they all were.

‘Jack…this isn’t like in Yemen or all those rescue missions. There’s no ex-fil at the end of this; you can’t just walk away!’ She swallowed. ‘They…they arrested Mac under his own name at our house.’ She sighed, squeezing his shoulder again. ‘If you bust him out, Mac will have to flee to some non-extradition country and spend the rest of his life hiding from all of US intelligence and law enforcement. You _know_ that. That’s…that’s no way to live.’ There was definite fear and sorrow and pain in her voice when she said that, and Jack nodded slowly in agreement. ‘So we need to do absolutely everything we can to make sure it _doesn’t_ come to that.’ She squeezed his shoulder again. ‘And that means we all have to be at our peak, Jack. We need you, _Mac_ needs you, to be thinking clearly. He needs you to be calm and rational, not…’ She made some vague gesture with her free hand. ‘…not severely emotionally compromised.’ 

Jack nodded slowly, once, twice, three times, taking corresponding deep breaths, drawing on all his years of training to calm himself, centre himself, cool his temper.

Beth was right.

A little voice in his head, a wry little voice that sounded just like his partner, said that Beth was pretty much always right.

He took another deep breath, then turned around to face the young woman completely, locking eyes with her.

‘If it came to it, you’d go with him, wouldn’t you?’

Beth just nodded resolutely, and Jack gave a tiny little smile.

Mac had had the worst luck in love for years.

But, Jack seemed, there was justice in the universe after all, because ever since Dr Farnham had retired, Mac’s luck in love had done, in Jack’s eyes, a complete 180.

The former CIA agent nodded resolutely too.

‘Let’s make sure it ain’t gonna come to that.’

He strode back towards the war room, his anger and frustration now refined and tempered to use as a tool to drive him, to help him compartmentalize and get his boy out of there, instead of clouding his mind and his judgement.

* * *

Thornton, Bozer and Riley looked up as Jack re-entered the war room, followed by Beth. Riley nodded, seemingly relieved, while Bozer gave a tiny grin and fist-bumped his BFF’s girlfriend, and Thornton inclined her head at the doctor.

Jack cracked his knuckles and spoke.

‘Okay, so we know that the LAPD’s got enough evidence on Mac to find him and arrest him, but Riles scrubbed all our tracks…’ His brow furrowed, he swore under his breath, and then, he pointed at Riley. ‘Any way someone could un-scrub those tracks?’

Realization dawned instantly in all of their eyes, and Bozer nodded, pointing at Jack.

‘What if some _concerned citizen_ was driving by or something and just _happened_ to catch a pic of Mac leaving the warehouse or something?’

That was punctuated with plenty of air-quotes.

Thornton spoke up next.

‘And then informed the LAPD.’

Beth continued.

‘It _is_ very strange and extremely unlikely that you cleared the warehouse, yet somehow missed a civilian...’

The five of them all exchanged a glance, weary and furious and worried and also filled with a new hope, all at once, and Jack said what they’d all been thinking.

‘Our boy was set up.’

Bozer made a monumental effort to lighten the mood, rubbing his hands together.

‘Alright, Murdoc or The Organization, which way are you all betting?’ He pointed at Riley with an excellent attempt at a smirk. ‘I can give you really good odds on the George Washington impersonator!’

While there were plenty of bad guys who’d do just about anything to take down Mac, and there _was_ the possibility that this was an opportunistic set up, Jack’s gut told him that it was either Murdoc or The Organization, the two ‘big-bads’ in Mac’s life, as Bozer called them. If he had to, he’d put his money on The Organization, rather than Murdoc.

(The assassin had escaped from prison again eight months ago, but a month ago, thanks largely to Mac, he’d been put back where he belonged. That fateful day in that warehouse in LA had been Mac’s first mission back after being medically and psychologically cleared as fit for duty after the injuries he’d sustained at Murdoc’s hands. Jack knew Murdoc was really, really good and could never, ever be underestimated, but he doubted that even the assassin could have pulled something like this off. Besides, while Murdoc was all about toying with Mac, playing twisted games, he liked to do his toying with him in person, liked to be able to pull the strings _and_ see the results, something that he couldn’t, obviously, do from prison.)

(In contrast, The Organization, greatly weakened by years of effort by Matty and her team – they’d taken down most of their vast criminal empire, though they hadn’t managed to catch the core members yet – had excellent motive as well as opportunity. They were, after all, just as obsessed with Mac as Murdoc was, and it’d probably only take a single operative to pull this off. And while he was sure that The Organization’s mysterious leaders would rather personally torture Mac to death, or at least watch while their henchmen did it, Jack figured that they were now so desperate and full of vengeance they would want to have him off the board any way they could take it.)

A glance around the room showed that everyone else was thinking along the same lines, even though they knew they had to keep an open mind and examine the evidence, all the possibilities.

Thornton put a hand on the door handle.

‘Riley, get us access to that evidence; we may be able to use it to clear Mac. Bozer, Jack, go over everything that happened that mission with Doc; she’s got fresh eyes. I’ll call Matty and the warden at Murdoc’s prison.’ She paused. ‘And Matty and I will speak to the CIA.’

There was something in her eyes that told them that _yell_ at the CIA would be more accurate.

Or, at least, Thornton’s equivalent of yelling, ice-cold, steel-sharp, utterly unyielding, deadly quiet and full of tightly-leashed anger.

(Matty, they knew, would actually yell until she was hoarse.)

In Jack’s mind, the CIA had sent Mac to that warehouse to prevent the sale of those G36s, which he’d succeeded in doing, least they could do was give him a get-out-of-jail-free card.

But he’d been CIA for long enough and been in this business long enough to not get his hopes up.

Still, he also knew how important it was to keep morale up, to do everything you could to make light in the darkness, so he saluted and snapped his heels together.

‘Yes, ma’am!’

* * *

**OBSERVATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

‘Bomb squad said it was a very powerful IED, made out of stuff that was just lying around.’ Greer talked to himself as he watched the blonde man in the interrogation room, who was still sitting there in silence. ‘Where does a guy learn to build something like that, I wonder?’

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later, Turner stepped in, holding a file.

‘Your ex just called.’

Greer snorted.

‘Figured. I’ve been sending her calls to voicemail for the last six hours.’

‘Yeah, well, spoiler alert, she’s pissed.’

Greer scoffed.

‘So, what else is new?’

‘She wanted to know if you’re taking the girls to the Christmas parade tomorrow.’

Greer gestured, grumpy and with a touch of frustration, to the interrogation room.

‘Depends on this guy, and if he ever decides to open his mouth.’ Something a little sadder flickered across his face for a moment. ‘And if they even want to go with their old man.’

His daughters were teenagers now, and he knew that he’d not been the best of fathers. He tried, really did, with everything he had, when he was there, but with his line of work, plus his relationship with his ex…which came back to his job again, in the end.

Turner nodded, a little ruefully, a little sadly. Their job required a lot of sacrifices. He held out the file in his hands to his boss.

‘I had Lorenzo run him through the system. Here’s everything we got so far on boy-band gone bad. He’s former US Army, joined up when he was eighteen. Honourable discharge three years later.’

Greer turned the page.

‘Oklahoma City bomber had one of those honourable discharges too.’ He tapped the page before him. ‘According to this, he was an EOD specialist.’ He gestured towards the blonde cuffed to the table with his head. ‘Well, now we know how he learned to make IEDs. If you can disarm a bomb, you can definitely make one.’

Turner nodded.

‘Yeah. Kid’s got a pile of brains, too.’ Greer snorted internally at the ‘kid’. MacGyver was thirty, even if he looked a little younger than he was; Turner didn’t even have a decade on him. ‘Dropped out of MIT right before joining up, been working at a think-tank since he shipped home.’

‘Think-tanks, uh?’ Greer turned the page again. ‘What’s he do there?’

Turner’s response was wry.

‘He’s making more than us, probably.’ He pointed something out on the page. ‘Currently employed by the Phoenix Foundation, before that he was at some place called DXS. Shut down six years ago, not sure why.’

Greer nodded, continuing to read as he spoke.

‘Did you pull his phone records?’

Turner nodded in response, turning the page over to the said records.

‘Yeah. Calls and texts to his girlfriend, a few friends, his dad, and this Phoenix Foundation.’ He shrugged. ‘Look, I didn’t find any red flags.’

Greer raised a brow at the younger detective.

‘You didn’t, huh?’ He pointed something out on the page. ‘How many Millennials you know don’t use their phones for days at a time? Look at these gaps; no calls, no texts, no data usage. Nothing.’

Turner nodded, reading over Greer’s shoulder.

‘He’s got no credit card or bank activity during those days either. It’s like he just falls off the face of the Earth for days at a time.’

Greer looked up at the wholesome-looking blonde whom he knew had to be anything but.

‘Then he shows back up and buildings start exploding.’

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Bozer paced around the war room, unable to sit still.

‘…When we got the call for the mission, Mac was in the lab with me…’

* * *

**ONE WEEK AGO**

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, this will be over soon.’

Bozer smirked at his BFF, who just smirked right back.

‘Oh, I’m scared for _you._ I know how much you hate to lose…’

Bozer just scoffed.

‘So said Venus right before Serena beat her, like, a dozen times!’

Mac snorted, picking up the ping-pong ball.

_Yes, we’re playing ping-pong at work._

_Don’t worry, we’re technically not being paid to do this._

_We worked overtime last night, which means that we get some of this workday off._

_That’s how it works here at the Phoenix; we don’t really do overtime pay._

_Saving the world doesn’t really fit into banker’s hours._

‘You _wish_ you were Serena.’

Bozer looked affronted and pointed at Mac with his paddle.

‘I’ve won every game today! I _am_ the Serena Williams of ping-pong!’

Mac shook his head with a smile and served.

Sparky, who was serving as the referee, tilted his head a little to the left, a habit that they were quite sure he’d somehow acquired from Beth.

‘Curious. Normally, Mr MacGyver applies backspin to ensure victory, but not today.’ He swivelled his head to look at Mac, as the ball continued to be hit back and forth across the net by the duo of best friends. ‘The injuries you sustained at the hands of Murdoc…’ Murdoc was the only person that Sparky referred to without some kind of honorific. ‘…cannot be the reason; Dr Taylor has cleared you for a return to full duty and she would not have done so unless you were fully recovered.’

Bozer didn’t return Mac’s next shot, letting the ball clatter to the floor instead, and shot his best friend a _look._

‘Mac, bro, have you been _letting_ me win?’

‘Of course not.’ He sounded entirely too innocent. Bozer shot him another look, and Mac finally nodded, a little sheepishly. ‘Alright, yes.’ He held up his hands, trying to placate his former roommate, who did _not_ look happy. ‘Only because I was trying to build up your confidence!’ Bozer shot him yet another look, looking vaguely reminiscent of their boss, and Mac raised his hands a little higher. ‘Hey, Boze, you’ve been sitting on that ring for almost a month, and you’ve had the video perfect for two weeks. Just ask her already!’

Bozer sighed and nodded, a rueful little smile on his face, rubbing the back of his neck.

Trying to build up the courage to propose to Riley was like nothing else.

He’d nearly died many times, including nearly getting shot by the really-bad bad guy (not that they knew it at the time) while the guy was wearing a George Washington mask _in his own home_ , when he hadn’t even known about his BFF’s secret double life.

Still, somehow, this was, in a lot of ways, even scarier.

‘You don’t have to do all this, Mac.’

‘Points on your bro game, Mr MacGyver.’

Mac and Bozer just exchanged a glance. Sparky seemed to look and sound almost as if he was showing off his ability to understand social nuance and humour or maybe even teasing them, which should _not_ be possible for a robot AI. They both shrugged, and then Bozer continued.

‘And nice to meet you, Mr Pot, I’m Mr Kettle.’ It was Mac’s turn to shoot his BFF a _look,_ which made Bozer smirk. ‘You’ve had that ring for, what, a week now…and I’m seeing no action, bro!’

Mac walked across the room and bent to pick up the ping-pong ball as he spoke.

‘That’s different, Boze! A, a week is not a month, and B, I haven’t managed to build something special for the occasion yet, with everything that’s happened lately…’ Mac ran a hand through his hair. ‘…and C, I want to wait until Christmas.’ Bozer opened his mouth to make a noise of protest (Christmas was a week away!), but Mac cut him off by continuing. ‘It’s kind-of our anniversary, Boze, and I’ve got plans for some extra-special Christmas decorations.’

Bozer smiled, soft and fond, then sniffled, pretending to wipe away some tears.

‘You’re all grown up, bro. If only Darlene Martin could see you now, being all romantic and smooth…’

Mac snorted.

_A, I don’t think I’m going to manage to pull off smooth when I ask Beth to marry me._

_Romantic I think I can manage, but smooth is probably beyond me._

_She won’t mind, though. She never has._

_B, I don’t really want to see Darlene Martin ever again._

_When Valerie graduated from Mission City High, we all went up to Mission City again._

_I admit that it’s a little flattering to have the girl who shot you down cold when you asked her to Prom comment to her friends that if she’d known you’d grow up like this, she’d probably have said yes, but it’s definitely not fun to have her try and ask you for a do-over, including a Prom night do-over, especially in earshot of your surrogate family and your girlfriend._

_Not fun at all._

_I can also tell you that it is also not fun to have your childhood bully, who once arrested you to boot, hit on your girlfriend._

_Yeah…it was an interesting trip. Jack wouldn’t stop cackling._

_His cackling gives me a headache._

At that moment, his phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his pocket and read the text message.

Bozer quirked an eyebrow at him.

‘Let me guess; Thornton, war room, now.’

* * *

‘…She’s a growler.’ Thornton arched an eyebrow at Jack as he practically drooled over the G36 assault rifle on the screen. Jack, much to the amusement of Mac, Bozer and Riley, looked quite a lot like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar and stepped back to stand next to Mac. ‘Eh…sorry, Patty. Back to business, everyone!’

Thornton gave a little nod which they knew she’d never admit was ever-so-slightly amused and continued their mission briefing.

‘The CIA has just received intel that this shipment of G36s is going to be sold on the black market here in the States. We’re still trying to ID the seller, but we do know that the weapons are being held in this warehouse…’ She tapped the screen and the image of a nondescript warehouse appeared. ‘…outside of LA.’

Mac nodded and continued, his hands shaping a paperclip into a G36.

‘And since the weapons are on US soil, the CIA can’t legally retrieve them.’

Jack nodded and continued.

‘Which is why they’ve come to us.’

Thornton nodded.

‘We believe that the sale is going to occur within the next forty-eight hours.’ She looked them all dead in the eye. ‘Our mission is to recover the guns before the deal occurs and these weapons are out on the street, aimed at civilians and law enforcement.’

* * *

**INTERROGATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

‘You know what this is?’

Greer, sitting in the chair opposite Mac, dropped a photo of a twisted, half-melted piece of a G36 on the table. Turner, leaning against the wall in the corner, snorted.

‘Of course he knows what it is; he’s just hoping that we don’t know what it is.’

Greer continued.

‘It’s part of an assault rifle. German, G36. Forensics found them all over the warehouse.’ He leaned closer to Mac. ‘Which tells us that there was a large shipment in the building. Also tells us how you might have been supplementing your income these days. Makes sense, right, Turner?’

He turned to the younger detective, who shrugged, deliberately nonchalantly.

‘A missus can be real expensive.’ Turner crossed his arms. ‘You selling weapons, MacGyver? You some kind of wannabe arms dealer?’

_I suppose my relationship is probably not very ‘normal’, but I don’t actually spend a large amount of money on Beth._

_That doesn’t mean I don’t give her nice gifts or do nice things for her. My grandfather raised me right, thank you very much, and love requires some maintenance and work._

_I just don’t spend large amounts of money._

_We try and do things on special occasions, though those are rather frequently rescheduled or truncated, due to our line of work, and I bring pie home randomly or make her something that I think she’ll find useful and/or cool out of paperclips or duct tape or an old toaster or a turkey baster and other bits and pieces on some Tuesday because inspiration struck…but it’s not as if I’m buying her, I don’t know, Jimmy Choos or Louis Vuitton handbags…_

_Okay, normal people don’t do that either, but I’m making a rhetorical point here._

_I’m 90% sure that if I did something like that, she’d start running medical tests on me. Concussion test, tox screen, checking for signs of infectious prions…and then she’d proceed to return the shoes she’d never wear and the handbags she’d never use and doesn’t want._

_And you know, if you disregard my hazard pay, she makes more than me._

Greer snorted and threw down some more photos, before leaning forward so he was in Mac’s face.

‘If you are, you’re not a very good one, though. Seems like bad business to destroy your own merchandise.’

Turner nodded in agreement.

‘I’d say so.’

Greer dropped another photo in front of Mac.

‘And this is what’s left of the bomb you made. You learn that as an EOD? Or did you come up with this one by yourself?’ He pulled out another photo. ‘And that’s you, exiting the warehouse that blew up.’ He leaned back from Mac a little. ‘You care to explain that?’ Mac remained silent, since he couldn’t do anything else. Greer continued, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Oh, take your time. I’m sure it’s surprising for you since all the security cameras in the area got mysteriously knocked out somehow. You didn’t figure on the street-view car driving by as you left, huh?’ He pointed at the corner of the photo. ‘The time stamp puts you right there, right about the time your bomb exploded. Oh, and we say it’s _your_ bomb because we also found your fingerprints on what was left of it.’

So that was what they had on him.

He had to get this info to Jack and the rest of the team at the Phoenix.

‘I want my phone call. Now.’

Greer and Turner just laughed, rather darkly.

‘Oh, you don’t get a phone call.’

Mac glanced between them, his brain already coming to a very unpleasant conclusion even as he spoke.

‘What do you mean I don’t get a phone call?’

‘You would, if we were just charging you with murder. A bomb that _you_ built blew up on US soil, ending an innocent life and destroying a building.’ Greer leaned closer to him again. ‘This isn’t just about murder anymore. We’re charging you with domestic terrorism.’

_Oh, great._

_Not._

_Yeah, I’m really having another of those Murphy’s Law days._

Greer, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, then addressed Turner with deliberate nonchalance.

‘You know what, I’m thinking that maybe I was wrong in saying that it was _MacGyver’s_ bomb. Maybe Forensics didn’t get all the prints, or maybe some of them were destroyed.’ A little spark of panic was ignited in Mac’s chest, as he hoped, desperately and unusually, that he was wrong. Very wrong. ‘We’ve been divorced for years, and my ex won’t stop calling me. How is it that his live-in girlfriend’s good with him going off-grid for days on end?’ Turner shrugged, as if to say _I don’t know,_ another very deliberate action. ‘Didn’t you say she’s really smart too?’

_I’m not wrong._

_No, no, no!_

Turner nodded.

‘Yeah. And her mom’s a chemist and her dad an engineer…’

Greer nodded, again with deliberate nonchalance, pretending to just figure it out.

‘She could probably build a bomb. Maybe they’re partners in more than one sense.’ Greer pulled out Beth’s driver’s license photo, showed it to Turner, again deliberately. ‘She’s pretty, looks sweet. Bet she’s fragile, isn’t she?’

_They’re wrong, so wrong, about that…but God, no, please don’t let them be proven wrong that way._

_Please don’t let them do this to her too!_

_Please…_

Turner nodded again.

‘Yeah, seems like her MSF deployment broke her. Gave up working in an ER to patch up think-tank geeks and do research.’

Greer turned back to Mac again, again very, very deliberately.

‘I don’t think your little girlfriend would last long in prison, Mr MacGyver. So, you gonna talk now? Or do you not give a damn about her?’

It took every fibre of Mac’s being to hold back at that. To not let the truth come spilling out, Espionage Act be damned.

But he couldn’t.

He was screaming at himself internally, but he kept mum.

Beth would be furious at him if he broke all their covers, broke the Phoenix’s cover, just because some LAPD detectives were threatening her to get to him, especially since they couldn’t have anything real on her at all.

And he trusted Jack, and trusted Thornton.

If it came to it, he trusted that they’d keep her safe, any way they could.

Several of the possible ways he could think of would involve letting him hang, metaphorically speaking.

Neither of them would like it (he certainly didn’t), and he’d hate to have to tell Beth and Bozer and Riley and face their wrath, but he trusted that Thornton would make Jack follow through with it, since it was what he’d want them to do.

What he’d order them to do, if he could.

He knew he hadn’t managed to completely suppress his reaction to their implicit threat to the woman he intended to marry.

He knew that the detectives had seen something.

Turner looked sceptical. Greer looked evaluative.

* * *

 

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Thornton stepped back into the war room, and all four occupants turned hopefully to her.

Their boss just gave a small, very grave and ever-so-slightly apologetic shake of her head.

‘Officially, the CIA won’t accept any connection to this op.’ She paused for a moment, a hint of tightly-leashed anger appearing in her voice. ‘Oversight won’t intervene either.’

Jack swore under his breath, repeatedly.

The next thing on his tongue would have been to ask her to get Oversight to bring in the sunglass squad to give Mac a get-out-of-jail-free-because-I’m-a-secret-agent card.

Riley nodded jerkily, then got back to typing frantically, while Bozer kept pacing, and Beth continued to make a paperclip chain from the paperclips in the bowl that lived on the table.

Thornton continued.

‘There’s nothing suspicious on the Murdoc front, and Matty and her team are searching for any Organization links; Riley, Viv and Lil should contact you-‘

There was a chime from Riley’s laptop, and then a very familiar pair of voices sounded out.

‘Hi, Riley.’

‘Heard we’re playing Sherlock Holmes.’

Riley, Viv and Lil started conferencing, as Bozer, Jack and Beth turned back to Thornton, whose expression had become even graver, and, to them, even more worried.

‘And the LAPD is charging Mac with not only murder, but also domestic terrorism.’

Jack turned to Riley.

‘Type faster, Ri.’ She nodded, not even looking up from her laptop, as the clicks of her keyboard increased in frequency. ‘The longer that we let Mac sit in there, the longer the cops have to fit the evidence to their story and paint Mac as a terrorist.’

* * *

**INTERROGATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

Greer slipped back into the interrogation room, and sat down opposite Mac, who’d looked over at him when he’d entered.

‘The FBI’s here, Mr MacGyver. They’re chomping at the bit to get a turn at you, so I’ve got one hour to finish my interrogation before I hand you over to the Feds.’ He leaned closer to the blonde. ‘I reckon they’re nowhere near as nice as me, so what do you say? You gonna talk?’

Mac simply held up his hands as best as he could, a gesture of innocence.

‘I’m not who you think I am.’

Greer looked very sceptical.

‘If you’re innocent, tell us who you are.’

_I technically can, even if I doubt he’s going to like my answer…_

He held the older man’s eyes.

‘Not an arms dealer. Not a terrorist.’

Greer scoffed.

‘Guess we can tack on _Making False Statements_ and _Obstruction of Justice_ to the charges.’

_See, I told you so._

The detective continued.

‘What you are, Mr MacGyver, is a jigsaw puzzle. The picture on the box looks good, but lift the lid and all you’ll find inside are a bunch of broken pieces. Your mom died when you were five. Dad left when you were twelve.’

Mac swallowed.

‘Lots of people lose their parents. And Dad and I reconnected.’

Greer scoffed.

‘Yeah, but damage was clearly already done. Normal, well-adjusted teens don’t burn down their high school football stadium.’

_I am clearly never, ever going to be able to live that down._

‘That was an accident!’

Greer scoffed again.

‘Or a clue to who you would ultimately become.’ He scoffed yet again. ‘In my experience, highly intelligent children with abandonment issues, a history of arson, and an abnormal obsession with explosives don’t usually wind up doctors and lawyers.’

_You know, he’s kind-of right. I didn’t exactly follow a normal, stereotypically-societally-admirable life path._

_Even though he’s pegged me on the wrong end of the spectrum._

Greer leaned a little closer to him.

‘You’ve spent your whole life looking for somewhere to put all that anger. It’s just too bad we didn’t catch you before all that rage cost an innocent man his life.’ Greer leaned back in his chair again, again with deliberate nonchalance, though Mac was sure there was a hint of genuine puzzlement in his voice when he spoke. ‘You know, MacGyver, there’s one piece of the puzzle that I’m having trouble putting in place. I was wondering if you could help me out, genius-level IQ and all.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Turner reckons you’re some kind of psychopath and that you’re playing some kind of game. He reckons your little girlfriend’s a part of it, thinks you saw a broken, vulnerable, pretty little thing and decided you’d have her and use her.’ Greer uncrossed his arms and rested his elbows on the table. ‘Me? I’m sure you really do love her, MacGyver. So where does she fit in? Have you two got some Bonnie-and-Clyde fantasy you’re acting out?’

_Remember, MacGyver, you can’t say anything._

_You can’t._

_No matter how much you want to._

_You can’t._

Greer locked eyes with him.

‘There’s only one way forward. You have to tell the truth, son.’

_I can’t._

* * *

**PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

**SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

‘...Riley was in the van, knocking out all the security cameras in the area. I had eyes on the street, looking out for any surprise visitors.’

Bozer gestured to the bird’s eye view of the warehouse on the left-hand side of the screen, and then to the mission report on the right, as Thornton, Jack and Beth looked on. (Riley was busy hacking the LAPD with help from Viv and Lil, who were also searching for any signs of The Organization’s influence.)

Jack continued, pacing along the side of the room.

‘Me and Mac did a sweep of the warehouse exterior, and then we did a little B&E. Well, Mac did most of it, but I propped the door open with a cinderblock, which was a genius idea that he wouldn’t give me proper credit for…’ Despite the dire situation, there was a fondly put-out little smile on Jack’s face as he said those words. ‘We didn’t see much interesting when we got in, just a regular old warehouse. I swept the building, room by room, while we searched for those guns.’

Bozer picked up the story.

‘But then new players entered the game. Turns out our intel was dodgy, and we had incoming. An eighteen-wheeler and two sedans; obviously, transport for the weapons. Deal was going down that day, not in forty-eight hours.’

Jack threw a hand out in frustration.

‘So, of course, Riley says that we should grab the guns and get out of there. There was just one _teensy_ little problem. The deal wasn’t just sooner than we’d expected, it was also bigger. _Way_ bigger.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Now, me and Mac work out, but it was way more guns than we could just grab and go. Since he couldn’t build a forklift out of all the stuff just lying around, Mac did the next best thing after recovering the guns: destroying them, so no-one could use ‘em, by building a bomb.’ Jack gestured to the screen. ‘So while he cooked up the boom-boom sauce, I went to barricade the door with that cinderblock, you know, to try to slow those bad guys down and buy him some time.’ Jack suddenly stopped in his pacing and swore. ‘…but the door was already closed when I got there. Somebody must have moved the cinderblock.’ Jack thwacked his fist against his thigh. ‘Damn it!’

It hadn’t registered because he was too busy planning how he was going to keep all the bad guys at bay, by handing out a lot of knuckle sandwiches.

Thornton glanced over at him, something in her eyes that was cooler, but not altogether all that different, from the look in Beth’s eyes when she’d told Jack not to blame himself.

‘George Ramsey, or whoever killed him, must have entered the warehouse after you did.’

At that moment, Riley made a noise of triumph and several images appeared on the screen.

‘Got it!’

Bozer stared at the image of the dead man, buried beneath rubble, on the screen, then pointed at it and glanced at his fiancée.

‘That’s him? That’s the victim? George Ramsey?’

Riley just nodded.

Bozer turned to Jack, Thornton and Beth.

‘I’ve seen that guy before! When I ran to the back door to help Jack out, he nearly ran me over on his motorbike, and then he rode off!’

Jack, Thornton, Beth and Riley glanced at one another, the older woman speaking.

‘If he was driving away when the building came down, then he couldn’t have been caught in the building collapse when Mac detonated his improvised explosives. Someone else must have killed him and dumped his body in the warehouse after you left.’ She paused and looked all four of them in the eyes. ‘If we find out who, and why, and prove it, we get Mac off.’

They all nodded, and then, after a couple of seconds, Beth got up and walked on autopilot up to the screen, staring at George Ramsey’s body, talking to herself.

‘Wait a moment, that doesn’t make sense…’ She turned to the team’s hacker. ‘Riley, where did they find his body?’ A map of the warehouse was pulled up, with a particular wall marked, as well as a labelled red star where the guns had been and where Mac had detonated the explosives. Beth shook her head as she glanced between the map and the photo of Ramsey, then walked over to one of the glass walls and pulled out a permanent marker from her pocket. She started writing on the glass, doing some calculations. ‘Don’t worry, boss, I can clean this off with acetone later…’ It was the same marker she used to write on the whiteboards in the infirmary; she used permanent to prevent stuff from being rubbed off prematurely. She wrote for about another twenty seconds, muttering under her breath, then turned to the four of them, pointing at George Ramsey. ‘If he was that far away from the bomb when it went off, he should be _covered_ in secondary blast injuries; hundreds of tiny little wounds caused by flying debris. Instead, he has a handful of deeper cuts.’ Beth shook her head. ‘I don’t know who or what killed him, or where, but it _wasn’t_ Mac’s IED and it _wasn’t_ in the warehouse. Someone killed him, moved his body to the warehouse, and covered him in debris.’ Beth stared at the wall for a moment, her thinking face on, and then her _I-have-an-idea_ face appeared and she mouthed _damn_ in frustration. ‘Actually, I think I do have a lead on the who and why…’ She turned back to the glass, and started drawing what Jack recognized as molecules, though he couldn’t tell you the first thing about any of them. ‘Sodium hydroxide, cold medicine and nail polish remover…that’s what Mac told me he used to make the bomb.’ Beth turned back to them. ‘They’re _also_ key ingredients in the synthesis of methamphetamine.’

Jack glanced between the doctor and the molecules and the math.

‘Wait a minute, you and my boy put together are almost as smart as two Einsteins, and you’re only working this out now? You or him or both of you together didn’t realize this earlier?’

Beth gave a helpless little shrug.

‘Well, at the warehouse, Mac must have been really busy calculating exothermic reaction rates in his head, so I think he wouldn’t really have been thinking about it at the time, and then, well…’ Her cheeks pinked. ‘…um…later, we got...distracted.’

‘Ah.’

Jack really wished, sometimes, that he could pretend that all the kids (meaning Mac, Beth, Bozer and Riley) got up to at night was games of chess or _Mythbusters_ marathons or watching horror movies or playing _Resident Evil 9_ or _Mario Kart_.

Thornton stepped in at that point, exchanging a glance with Jack.

‘Jack, go pay Mac a visit, get him to confirm what Doc’s concluded. Riley-‘

‘Searching for links between meth dealers who do arms on the side, The Organization and the warehouse. On it, boss.’

* * *

‘Hey, Boze?’

As Jack got changed into a very smart suit, borrowed from wardrobe, with assistance from Bozer (who was also quizzing him on the last-minute backstopped cover ID that he would be using’s background), he pulled the precious item that Mac had entrusted him with from his jeans pocket, as Bozer handed him the suit jacket.

The younger man took it, swallowing, then looked up at Jack.

Jack just gave a little nod.

‘I can’t take it with me, Boze, so you keep it safe for Mac for a couple hours, okay?’

Bozer just nodded resolutely, slipping the ring box into his pocket.

* * *

**INTERROGATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

Jack barged into the room, dressed in the sharp suit borrowed from wardrobe and holding a leather briefcase.

‘This interview’s over; I’d like a word alone with my client.’

Greer stood and looked incredulously at him, exchanging a look with Turner.

‘You can’t just barge in here!’

Jack just held out a very official-looking business card.

‘Roger Preston, attorney-at-law. I’m surprised you don’t recognize me from my client’s Christmas party you so rudely interrupted.’

Greer scoffed.

‘Your client is being held on suspicion of domestic terrorism.’

Jack just stared him down.

‘That doesn’t abrogate his Sixth Amendment right to counsel as affirmed by Hamdi v. Rumsfeld. Look it up.’ He sounded very officious and very certain. ‘So are we gonna continue to violate said rights, or can I have that word alone I requested?’ Greer didn’t move, so Jack continued. ‘Did I say _please_? Please.’

Greer shot him a look, but headed towards the door.

‘Fine. But I’d advise your client to cooperate with us.’

Jack grinned and opened the door for the police detectives.

‘Thank you, Detective. I’ll take it from here. You do great work, gentlemen. Appreciate you.’

He closed the door, then sat down opposite Mac and grinned, with almost-childish glee.

‘I can’t believe that worked.’

Mac raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the observation room window, speaking under his breath while trying not to move his mouth much.

‘I really hope you know what you’re doing…’

Jack brushed off that concern.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Riley cut the cameras and the speakers to the observation room. Besides, whatever we talk about falls under lawyer-client confidentiality, so we’re all good.’

Reassured that he could speak openly, Mac locked eyes with his partner, that worry that had been nagging him for what felt like an _eternity_ but he knew definitely wasn’t bursting out.

‘Jack, they think that Beth’s involved somehow, he threatened her, you have to make sure-‘

Jack held up his hand.

‘Woah, woah, hold it there, son! I promised you, remember? And I learned no-promise-breaking from the best!’ Mac, reassured, calmed a little, as Jack continued. ‘Besides, nobody else is gonna get arrested and we’re gonna get you out of those!’

Jack gestured to the cuffs with his head, then exaggeratedly popped the lid on his briefcase and laughed childishly in delight.

Mac, admirably, managed a little smile at that, doing as Jack had done, reaching for lightness, for humour.

‘That whole show earlier was impressive.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Where did you learn that legalese?’

‘Oh, Patty made me memorize it phonetically. I have no earthly idea what I just said.’ Mac gave a weak chuckle at that, and counting that as a win, Jack held out a tablet to Mac, with an image of Ramsey’s body (which Mac had seen earlier) next to the map showing where the body had been found on the screen (which he hadn’t been shown by Greer). ‘Riles got into your LAPD file, and this is what they’ve got on you.’

He didn’t say anything more. Over the years, he’d spent enough time around Cage to have the idea of confirmation bias drilled into his brain.

Mac examined it for a few seconds, before he looked up at Jack, looking very, very relieved.

‘He hasn’t got secondary blast injuries. He wasn’t in the…’ Mac let out a breath that Jack knew he’d been holding ever since Thornton had spoken those fateful words. ‘…I didn’t kill him.’

Jack nodded.

‘Of course you didn’t, man! And Boze saw him leaving the warehouse before the big kaboom too, so we got two pieces of evidence that proves it.’

Mac nodded. They couldn’t share the fact that Bozer had seen him leaving, but the lack of secondary blast injuries were a completely different matter; any expert worth their salt would point out something like that.

‘So someone else killed him and set it up to make it look like he was killed in the blast…’ His thinking face reappeared as he threw himself back into his memories of the day, searching for clues. Then, he swore under his breath. ‘Nail polish remover. Cold medicine. Sodium hydroxide. They were making meth.’

Jack nodded, a smile on his face, despite the situation.

‘Exactly what your girl worked out.’

Mac, too, smiled, despite himself. Then, his brow furrowed and he looked a little confused.

‘If Beth worked it out, what was the point of this visit?’

Jack gave a little smirk that was, somehow, full of hints of a heartfelt smile.

‘Well, it never hurts to double-check, brother, and Patty sent me to check up on you. She’s real worried about you.’ Jack shrugged, far more nonchalantly than he felt. ‘And I kinda missed your skinny butt.’

Mac gave a snort of laughter.

‘Yeah, well, I haven’t started missing your puns yet, so don’t start cracking them out, Jack.’

At that moment, Jack’s phone rang, and he answered, putting it on speaker.

‘Hey, Patty. Mac agrees with Doc. So we got that Ramsey works for whoever owns that warehouse, who were also making meth, and being the maintenance man involved a lot more than maintenance; he kept an eye on the contraband for them. But when we broke in…’

Bozer continued the story over the phone.

‘He knew he was outnumbered, so instead of protecting the stash, he bugged out on this bike and nearly ran me over in the process.’

Thornton picked up the thread.

‘His employers killed him as punishment for fleeing, and then dumped his body in the warehouse rubble.’

Jack ran a hand through his hair, then jabbed with his thumb at the glass that bordered the interrogation and observation rooms.

‘Now we just gotta get proof to convince Joe Thursday out there.’

It wasn’t as if he’d be convinced by Mac and Beth’s conclusions, after all. They couldn’t exactly serve as expert witnesses at Mac’s trial.

Riley spoke up.

‘I’ve got a lead on that. A recent run of DEA busts has left a manufacturing hole that the La Ola cartel has stepped in to fill. When I first dug into the warehouse, I hit a nest of shell companies, which led me to warehouse owner H. Ruiz. But searching just H. Ruiz turned up over 20,000 hits. Once I knew that the shells are tied to a Mexican drug cartel, I searched the DEA database, and found Hector Ruiz, La Ola lieutenant and owner of the warehouse in question. Viv and Lil are searching for Organization links now, and I’ve just got his address. Jack, I’m texting it to you now.’

Thornton took over.

‘Jack, we’ll meet you there.’

She hung up, and Jack turned to his partner.

‘You sit tight. When I come back, we’re gonna be leaving here together and you’re gonna go pop the question so we can celebrate, okay?’

Mac nodded, looking far more hopeful, perkier, than he’d been when Jack had entered, which Jack definitely counted as a win.

He stood, picked up his briefcase and straightened his tie.

‘Time to get into character.’ He took one last chance to give Mac a bit of light. ‘Somebody say action.’

He looked very pointedly at his partner, who just rolled his eyes with fond exasperation.

‘Action.’

‘There it is!’ He cleared his throat and opened the door. ‘Good talk, I’ll see you in court.’

* * *

**HECTOR RUIZ’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Jack burst through the door, followed by Thornton, both of them with their guns at the ready.

They were followed by Riley, who had her own gun at the ready, then Bozer and Beth, who had the many-times-improved mini-Tasers that Mac had made them all those years ago after Murdoc’s second escape at the ready.

(Leaving them behind had been out of the question, they’d just follow; besides, both of them were far better able to defend themselves now, thanks to lots and lots of training, and could help with the investigation.)

‘Clear!’

‘Clear!’

‘Clear!’

Jack turned to his boss, saying what they all knew.

‘Hector’s not home.’

* * *

**OBSERVATION ROOM**

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

‘Well, you were right.’ Turner gave Greer a nod. ‘Something was definitely off about that lawyer. His website and address check out, but I called a friend over at the DA’s office. No-one’s ever heard of Roger Preston, attorney-at-law.’

‘So either MacGyver’s lawyer has never crossed paths with the DA’s office…’

‘Or he’s not a lawyer at all. I called the Bar Association, there’s no Roger Preston registered in California.’

Agent Whittaker from the FBI’s LA office spoke up.

‘I think it’s time we had a little talk with him.’

Greer nodded, a tiny bit hesitantly.

Something was bothering him a little about MacGyver.

He genuinely believed that the young man truly loved his girlfriend.

However, then why didn’t he say anything, why didn’t he crack, when Greer had threatened her, used her?

He was a jigsaw puzzle, in more ways than one.

He just couldn’t quite put all the pieces together to form a coherent image.

Like there was a piece or two missing.

But he didn’t know what it was at all.

‘Alright.’

Whittaker gestured to the interrogation room.

‘But not in there. He’s been there too long, he’s too comfortable.’ Whittaker turned to Turner. ‘Is the basement still being renovated?’

Turner snorted.

‘Well, if you call the department running out of money and abandoning the project _still being renovated,_ sure. Place is a mess, though. Nobody’s been down there for weeks.’

Whittaker smirked darkly.

‘Sounds perfect.’

* * *

**BASEMENT**

**(RULE FOURTEEN: ALWAYS CHECK THE BASEMENT)**

**HECTOR RUIZ’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

‘…I got some kind of weird printer here.’

Jack held up the device, which Riley instantly recognized.

‘That’s an ID card printer.’ She typed frantically, following a hunch. ‘With the right kind of software, you can make a…uh oh.’ Riley trailed off as her hunch was, unfortunately, confirmed. ‘Guy made himself a fake police ID.’

Jack put down the printer and rounded on his boss.

‘We need to get to Mac.’

Riley looked up from her laptop, biting her lip, an action that Beth mirrored, as Bozer swallowed.

‘We can’t do that without breaking cover…’

Thornton was silent for just a second.

They all knew that she valued Mac’s life and loved him just as much as they did, really, even if she didn’t show it anywhere as easily as they did.

But she had other demands on her.

She had a duty to all of her agents, not just them. Not just him.

She had to protect and care for all of them, as well as the greater good.

Sometimes, that wasn’t possible.

And then, she had to make the tough calls.

If they broke cover, they’d risk breaking the covers of the entire Phoenix Foundation. They’d put dozens of lives, the lives of their equally brave and heroic co-workers and friends, at risk.

‘No, we might be able to.’ With what they’d found so far, including a couple of new discoveries in Ruiz’s house, they had enough evidence to get Mac released, so that was no longer a problem. An anonymous email to LAPD would do it. They just had to ensure Mac was _alive_ long enough to be released. If she and Jack could get in relatively unnoticed, they could help him stop Ruiz (she told herself it would be _help_ ; Mac _would_ find a way to try and combat Ruiz, even cuffed, under arrest and taken by surprise), with minimal damage to their covers. She gestured at Bozer, specifically his pocket, then at Beth. Mac wouldn’t be happy, not at all, about this on several levels, but she would much, much rather have a living, healthy Mac who was angry at her for putting Bozer and Beth (the most civilian of them all) in potential danger than a dead Mac or a badly hurt one. ‘We need a distraction. A large distraction. Bozer, give her the ring.’

* * *

**LAPD PRECINCT**

**LA**

* * *

‘Go ahead, Officer Rivera.’

He made his way down the corridor, carefully adding a concealed silencer to his gun.

What he saw surprised him a little.

The blonde man, MacGyver, his target, was being moved.

That threw a wrench in his plans, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Ignoring the shouts that had started in the entryway of the precinct, Hector Ruiz followed the two police detectives and their suspect.

* * *

‘How dare you!’ Beth stormed into the precinct, followed closely by Bozer, who seemed concerned and was wringing his hands, as if he wasn’t sure whether to try and stop her. She strode up to the nearest police officer and started yelling at him, ignoring the protests of the receptionist, who, when her protests were ignored, started leaving her post to try and defuse the situation. ‘…first you arrest my fiancé for murder, and now his lawyer tells me you’re charging him with _domestic terrorism_? My fiancé is _not_ a terrorist!’

‘Ma’am, you need to calm down-‘

‘ _Do not_ ma’am me! I will _not_ calm down!’

Bozer, a little hesitantly, as if he were approaching a somewhat wild animal, put a hand on her shoulder.

‘Beth, you should probably listen to the nice policeman…’

The doctor rounded on him.

‘ _What?_ Are you going to suggest that I listen to him when he says that Mac is a _terrorist_ too?’

Bozer put his hands up, backing up towards another officer and the receptionist, as if he wanted to hide behind them.

‘Well, you know, maybe we don’t know him as well as we thought? I mean, he’s really smart and he can be really sneaky, we both know that...I’d buy him managing to keep a double life a secret from me for years…’

Beth narrowed her eyes at him, and stormed over and slapped Bozer hard across the face.

‘Ma’am!’

The police officer whom she’d been talking to tried to reach out and restrain her, but using a trick that Mac had drilled with her for hours upon hours, she broke out of his grip.

The police officer doubled over, winded, and called for back-up.

* * *

Meanwhile, taking advantage of the excellent distraction, Jack and Thornton (Roger Preston and his associate, if anyone asked) slipped past the abandoned reception area, into the precinct proper.

* * *

Mac was none-too-gently marched into the basement by Turner and Greer, where the three FBI agents awaited.

‘Pardon our dust.’

Turner’s tone was very sarcastic, as his superior gestured to Mac, addressing the FBI agents.

‘He’s all yours. Maybe you can get more out of him than I did.’

As he finished speaking, several silenced gunshots rang out, taking down the three FBI agents before they could properly react.

‘Cover! Cover! Cover!’

Mac lunged for the nearest door as Hector Ruiz came into view, opening it, and Greer, clutching his shoulder (he’d been hit, clearly), and Turner dove inside, an action he repeated, before flinging the door closed.

Greer turned to him as they sought cover behind some old overturned tables.

‘Friend of yours?’

Mac shook his head, a touch of wryness to the expression.

‘He’s here to kill me. He’s La Ola cartel, they own the warehouse.’

Greer shot him a _look_ and scoffed.

‘So _now_ you start talking?’ Mac gave an apologetic little shrug, as the detective turned to the other policeman. ‘Where’s your weapon?’

‘It’s locked in my desk.’

Greer’s expression grew very grim.

‘Mine, too.’ Greer gestured to the door. ‘We got about twenty seconds before our friend figures that out.’

_And then, it hit me._

Mac pointed at the two policemen.

‘But we still have bullets.’

Greer scoffed again.

‘What good are bullets without a gun?’

Mac’s expression developed a hint of a smirk.

‘You wanted to know what I am.’ He held out a still-cuffed hand. ‘Let me show you.’ The two policemen exchanged a glance, rather sceptical, but Greer reached into his pocket and handed Mac a bullet. The blonde nodded in thanks, then his eyes were caught on the pen in Turner’s front shirt pocket. ‘Actually, I’m going to need everything you have.’ He reached out and took the pen from the stunned man. ‘Thank you.’

Mac got to work, quickly freeing his hands, then started doing what he did best.

Turner and Greer just exchanged a look, a little stunned from everything that had just happened and not knowing what to make of it. The older detective spoke.

‘Okay…what exactly are you going to do?’

Mac answered as he kept working.

‘Save our lives, I hope.’ He caught sight of the notebook in Greer’s pants pocket and reached out and grabbed it. ‘Excuse me.’

The two policemen exchanged another glance. Mac was pretty sure they thought he was crazy by that point, as Ruiz thumped on the door.

‘Hand over your suspect! And you can both go home tonight! It’s a win-win for everyone, everyone except the blonde guy!’

The door burst open, just as Mac jumped out from behind the table and threw his creation at the doorway.

There was a blast, which made Ruiz stumble and caused him to drop his weapon. Turner, who clearly had very quick reflexes, dove for the gun, seized it and pointed it at the cartel lieutenant.

‘Hold it, right there!’

Ruiz put his hands up, as Greer, very shocked, turned to Mac.

‘ _What the hell_ was that?’

Mac gave a little smirk.

‘An exploding dart, made with gunpowder and a blasting cap taken from a bullet and a ballpoint pen.’ At that moment, Jack and Thornton, guns at the ready, appeared in the doorway. Mac’s smirk became a rather wry smile as Greer tensed again. ‘Don’t worry, they’re with me.’

* * *

‘…This will do for now, Detective Greer, but you need to go to an ER within the next three hours. _Do not_ miss that deadline or refuse to go entirely.’

Beth shot the detective one of her firm, narrow-eyed looks, then packed up the medical kit she’d borrowed from the LAPD (it was closer than the ones in the Phoenix vehicles they’d driven here, and she didn’t want to explain why think-tank employees had such a comprehensive medical kit on them), as Greer nodded his thanks to her.

‘We’re letting you off with a stern, unofficial verbal warning for assaulting an officer of the law, young lady.’

Beth nodded seriously.

‘Of course, thank you.’ She stood up, and looked very sheepish and very apologetic. ‘Can you please tell Officer Lorenzo I’m really sorry for hurting him?’

Greer looked a little taken-aback (to be fair to the poor man, he was getting a lot of shocks today), but nodded.

With a last, sheepish little smile, Beth left the room, leaving Greer, Turner, Mac and Jack in the older detective’s office.

‘We’re charging Ruiz with the murder of George Ramsey and three FBI agents. And we got an anonymous email, detailing both the cartel’s methamphetamine- and arms-dealing operations, which suggests that the blast that brought down their warehouse was just another meth lab explosion…’ Mac and Jack exchanged a smirk, as Greer pointed at the brunette. ‘As for you…‘

Turner continued.

‘We _could_ charge you with impersonating an officer of the court and obstruction of justice…’

Jack affected a very innocent expression.

‘Who, me?’

Greer looked unimpressed, but continued dryly.

‘We’re gonna give you a warning instead. You’re both free to go.’

Jack reached out and high-fived Mac.

‘ _That_ is a Christmas miracle, brother.’

Greer gave a small, still rather grumpy, smile.

‘Two last questions, though. What is it that you _do_ , exactly?’

Mac and Jack exchanged another look, then spoke in unison.

‘We work at a think-tank.’

Greer didn’t seem incredibly convinced, as he pointed at the door that Beth had left through a minute ago.

‘And Mr MacGyver, is she actually your fiancée?’

Jack smirked and burst into a fit of laughter which he muffled with his hand, which led Turner to just raise an eyebrow at him.

Mac rolled his eyes at his partner and instead turned to Greer, rubbing the back of his neck in a sheepish way that made him look younger, in the detective’s eyes.

‘Well, I haven’t actually asked her yet…’ His smile grew more wry. ‘You arresting me threw a wrench in my plans…’

‘Ah.’ Greer actually did look a little apologetic at that. It seemed, Jack thought, that the old detective had a heart after all. ‘Well, Christmas isn’t quite over yet, Mr MacGyver. You still have time. Good luck.’ He pointed at the younger man, giving him a pointed look. ‘Make sure you ask her soon.’ He held out a hand to Mac. ‘Merry Christmas, Mr MacGyver.’

Mac reached out and took the detective’s proffered hand, shaking it firmly.

‘I will, and Merry Christmas, Detective Greer, Turner.’

Mac and Jack left, leaving Turner and Greer in the room alone, and the two policemen just turned to one another, both shrugging.

They saw a lot of weird, but this was way up there.

* * *

Mac, Jack, Bozer, Riley, Beth and Thornton walked back towards the pair of Phoenix vehicles they’d parked two blocks from the precinct.

In the lead, Mac and Beth walked hand-in-hand, talking quietly. Bozer and Riley followed, Mac’s BFF filling his fiancée in on precisely what had occurred during his and Beth’s epic distraction (Riley had been busy putting together that anonymous email). Jack and Thornton brought up the rear in comfortable silence.

Mac glanced down at the ring on Beth’s left ring finger, a sheepish little smile on his face.

‘So, Jack gave you the ring…’

Beth smiled up at him, cheeks a little pink.

‘Bozer, actually. We kind of needed it for the distraction…’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Why did you expect _Jack_ to have it?’

She’d thought that Mac had probably given it to Bozer to keep at his place after he’d bought it, for safekeeping and to keep her from accidentally stumbling upon it (living with Mac required, from time to time, searching absolutely everywhere for anything and everything from the plunger for the toilet to the peeler, something that did get on her nerves on occasion – they had some rules in place; there were some things Mac was not allowed to use or remove from their proper place without replacing within twelve hours and/or first informing her, unless there was an emergency), and that Bozer had brought it with him to the Christmas party to turn over to Mac for use some time soon, possibly nudging him the same way that Mac had nudged Bozer to ask Riley.

Mac’s smile became tinged with sadness and apology.

‘Because I had it in my pocket when Thornton brought the news. I gave it to him just before the LAPD…’ He trailed off and swallowed, the sadness and apology becoming more apparent. Beth squeezed his hand in response. ‘I had a _plan_ , Beth, something very special for you.’

He pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead in apology, and Beth just squeezed his hand again, smiling up at him, a good dollop of wryness in the expression.

‘Plans really aren’t your thing, Mac. You’re really more of an on-the-fly kind of guy.’

_And then, it hit me._

_If the plan goes south, you improvise…_

He stopped in his tracks and grabbed both of his girlfriend’s hands, leading her into a conveniently-located alleyway.

Then, he let go of her hands, reaching into his pocket to grab a paperclip (they’d cleared his pockets at the precinct, but thankfully returned everything, including the four paperclips he’d had on him), then getting down onto one knee as his hands shaped the paperclip without him having to look.

Beth gave a little chuckle, a fond, happy sound, clapping her hands over her mouth, and Mac just grinned up at her, a little sheepish, but very, very affectionate.

‘Beth, I love you, so, so much.’ He handed her the paperclip heart he’d just made, which she took, her smile widening, and brought to her lips, pressing a little kiss to it. That made his grin widen. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life in mutual weirdness with you, so…’ He pulled the ring he’d swiped off her finger as he’d pulled her into the alleyway out of his pocket. ‘Will you marry me?’

Beth nodded, smile very, very wide, reaching out and taking his hand, a little lost for words for a moment before she found her voice again.

‘Yes, of course, Mac!’

She tugged him to his feet, and he slipped the ring back onto her finger, and then she reached up and kissed him, and all was very, very right in Mac’s world.

When they broke apart, Beth wiped a couple of happy tears from her eyes, and he pressed another kiss to the side of her head, an arm still around her waist.

Jack, Bozer, Riley and Patricia stood at the entrance of the alleyway, a respectful few feet away.

Bozer was sniffling and wiping a few tears from his own eyes.

‘My little crazy-brilliant-mad-scientist-puppy’s all grown up! He’s getting _married_!’

Riley was shaking her head at Bozer, an eyebrow quirked, full of fond exasperation, but she smiled softly and happily at the newly-engaged couple.

There was a soft little smile on Patricia’s face, and she inclined her head at them when they glanced at her, smile widening slightly.

Jack clapped and grinned.

‘Oh, Mac, you silver-tongued old dog, you!’ Then, he glanced around the alleyway, and pointed at the blonde and shot him a _look._ ‘But seriously, son, in an alley full of _dumpsters_?’

Mac, no longer possessed by a crazy idea, a moment of genius inspiration, finally glanced properly around his surroundings, and cringed.

_Jack is…not wrong. Not at all._

Bozer snapped out of his mumbling about how Mac had gotten so big, and nodded in agreement, pointing at Jack, then Mac.

‘Yeah, bro, you really need to work on your sets! Ambience, man, ambience! You got to set the mood!’

_Bozer really has a point. I probably picked one of the least romantic settings possible…not to mention the whole I-spent-a-substantial-portion-of -the-day-under-arrest bit…_

Mac looked at his new fiancée, very, very sheepish and an apology on his lips.

‘Beth, I’m so-‘

She shut him up by cutting him off and poking him in the chest.

‘Don’t you _dare_ apologize, Angus MacGyver.’ She glanced pointedly at Jack and Bozer, before looking back at Mac with a smile. ‘I loved it, I thought it was perfect.’ Her smile widened, becoming a little teasing, though no less fond and heartfelt. ‘It was very _you_.’

Mac, a very strange expression on his face that was part smug-smirk and part completely-besotted-grin, ducked his head to press a kiss to her forehead, as Jack and Bozer started a conversation that didn’t make much sense (‘Just-‘ ‘Wow.’ ‘He didn’t go all-‘ ‘No, no Frankensteining.’ ‘You sure?’ ‘You sure she isn’t-‘ ‘Positive. I think.’), and Patricia and Riley exchanged a very, very fond but also exasperated head-shake, wondering when in the world their lives had gotten so crazy (but in a really good way) that this wasn’t even that weird.

* * *

**MACGYVER’S RESIDENCE**

**LA**

* * *

Patricia entered Mac and Beth’s house, having finally tied things up to a suitably satisfactory point with Oversight.

The newly-engaged couple were in the living room, Mac showing his fiancée the romantic-proposal-Christmas-themed spaghetti machine he’d created. Bozer, Riley and Jack were on the deck, in an attempt to give them a little privacy, so she headed outside.

Bozer and Riley were standing by the grill, Bozer re-heating his Christmas pastrami, and Jack was sitting down by the fire-pit, a beer in hand.

He smiled up at her as she sat down elegantly next to him, and held out his hand and made a special gesture. Mac’s walking, self-opening Esky walked up and opened obligingly, and Jack reached out and grabbed another beer, then opened it using the bottle opener attached to the Esky’s side. He handed her the beer, and she nodded and gave a little smile in thanks, then spoke.

‘Viv and Lil found evidence of The Organization’s tampering. They posed as the G36 buyers, dropped breadcrumbs to give the CIA the bad intel, arranged for the street-view car to go by at the right time, and tipped off La Ola.’ Jack shook his head, muttering swear words under his breath. The Organization might well be weakened, but this incident proved that they weren’t defeated, not nearly. ‘Matty had Cage pose as a social worker; she convinced Ruiz to flip on the cartel and lay out all their operations, and got everything he knew about The Organization out of his head.’ Thornton gave a wry smile. ‘Only Mac would get himself arrested for murder and have it end with the takedown of a major drug- and arms-dealing cartel and striking a blow against The Organization.’ Her smile grew even more wry and also softer, more affectionate. ‘ _And_ his engagement.’

Jack nodded, a wry, fond grin on his face, raising his beer and clinking it against Patricia’s.

‘That’s our boy, Patty. That’s our boy.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of that was lifted from the ep, obviously, but I hope you liked the changes I made! Did I manage to make it fit into his AU well?
> 
> In all honesty, part of the reason I wrote this was so Mac proposes to Beth in a silly/weird/improvised way…
> 
> Anyway – did you guys like it? Let me know if you’ve got a request!

**Author's Note:**

> : I hope it’s pretty clear just who said that last line (Beth, to Mac, of course!)…and yeah, that was pretty much all fluff. See why I didn’t want to end _Every End is a Beginning_ with this? (I think it’d have lost a lot of its ~meaningfulness~ if I’d gone with this.)
> 
> The turkey being turned purple is a reference to the chapter A Time for Family in _Two Paperclips and a Stick of Gum_ , in which Mac (Jack’s half-brother) and Riley (Patricia’s niece) try to cause their older brother and aunt, who have started dating, which Mac and Riley aren’t happy about, to break up...by ruining Thanksgiving. 
> 
> Requests/prompts for this series are greatly, greatly encouraged! (seriously – please do give me requests/inspiration!)
> 
> Next chapter (which will be up Thursday night, my time – early Thursday morning for Americans): Whispers in the Night, set between 2.03, Lipstick, and 2.04, Jack. On the way home from a mission, in the middle of the night, Mac has an important question that he desperately needs answered and Jack’s heart breaks a little bit more for his partner. 
> 
> Thoughts on 2.03, Roulette Wheel + Wire: I enjoyed the episode overall. Badass team fun and silliness? Sign me up! I liked the role that Cage played in the mission, it made sense for her to be there. However, I am really now getting the feeling that there’s going to be Mac/Cage in the future (the significant looks, the conversation on the deck – ‘so you’re saying I’m the girl next door?’ – pretty much settles it, I think) and I do not like that. I’ve always thought that Mac needs someone to ‘nerd out’ with (hence Beth). Almost all of his family – as much as they appreciate his crazy brain, as much as they indulge it – don’t get it, with the exception of Riley, probably. In contrast, the two women on the show that Mac’s been depicted as having been in love with probably were people he could ‘nerd out’ with (Frankie obviously was, and Nikki, I think we can infer from her obvious genius, probably was too). I don’t see Sam as fitting that bill. I also think that it cheapens her as a character – she said in the first episode that she doesn’t date people she meets at work; Mac is special, but she needs a better impetus than that, and she can’t be chucking it out so soon! (I contrast that with Beth, who in the two stories I’ve written in which she works for the Phoenix, the whole ethics of dating your patient thing is a major thing for her to overcome – and she doesn’t wind up throwing it out the window because she’s in love with Mac, but rather because she learns and understands that the Phoenix is different, that working in a covert agency is different – which Sam already has experience with and yet still has her rule - and grows to love the whole team, and it also takes pretty much the entire story.)


End file.
